


hatstall

by Magali_Dragon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Hatstalls (Harry Potter), Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Magic, This came out of nowhere, crack fic maybe?, no idea why i am writing this stuff seriously, should be working on my other fic, targcest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22234495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magali_Dragon/pseuds/Magali_Dragon
Summary: Scenes from Jon and Dany in the Wizarding World as they encounter hatstalls, mysterious bloodlines, advancing magic, and other assorted Wizarding events.**COMPLETE**
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 146
Kudos: 522





	1. prologue: hatstall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rare event happens one Sorting evening, not once but twice, as a peculiar group of students come together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whyyyyyyyy did I write this!?!?! Kill me now, seriously.
> 
> I should be working on my other fic, but I'm in severe writer's block, wrestling with how best to proceed with it-- trying to rush a chapter that probably shouldn't be rushed. So I of course am watching HP with a friend and we start arguing over which Houses Jon and Dany are and I just ended up slamming this thing out and now I don't know anymore.
> 
> I may delete it. I may continue it. Gods only know.
> 
> Enjoy?

There was a distinct hum of anticipation in the air; Daenerys was unable to stop vibrating herself. She could never have imagined in all the dreaming, all the wondering, and the constant escapes from her life that this is where she would end up. Her family always spoke that they were descended from _dragons_ but to be an actual _witch_ was something else entirely.

Her brother had been absolutely livid when the strange woman had appeared at their door, wearing velvet robes that stood out in deep crimson and with a matching red velvet pointed hat atop her matching blood-red hair. A ruby and gold necklace had pulsed on her neck, mimicking a beating heart. He’d tried to cast her out, claiming she was a charlatan, a _witch_ and of course she had merely smiled, enigmatic and drawling with a funny accent. _”Of course I am, Viserys of House Targaryen, Third of His Name, for why do you think I am here?”_

That didn’t make any sense to her, because yes, her name was Daenerys Targaryen, but she had no idea her family were powerful witches and wizards. She had no idea that her father and mother were pure-blood magic, because they died when she was born. Her brother knew, he’d kept it from her, because he had no magic. He hated it. He changed their name, to their adopted family’s name Darry, but she had always liked her true name. _Targaryen._ It was exotic. Just like the dragons they were supposed to come from.

The woman had introduced herself as Melisandre, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She was there to offer invitation to the school to Daenerys, explaining to her that she was not in fact a Muggle, as her brother had led her to believe, meaning that she was born to non-magic family. Viserys had been absolutely infuriated that he was non-magic born into magic and he had always hated it, and had refused to let her go, but thankfully Melisandre said that simply was not possible.

A month after that fateful day, Daenerys stood in line with the rest of the first years, all of eleven-years old, and wondering just what was going to happen as she stared at the battered black hat sitting atop a small three-legged stool before the table of professors. She had watched as Melisandre had dropped the hat atop the curly haired head of a light brown-skinned girl named Missandei Naath and it had shouted after a moment _”Ravenclaw!”_

She clapped as the girl—who she had sat with on the train and who was really quite bright— hopped off the stool and bounded to a table on the far right, joining many black robed students wearing ties and accessories of blue and gray. She nibbled her lower lip, wondering just where she was supposed to go.

Obviously, she knew the four Houses, she had studied up on them. The bookstore in the strange alleyway in London had been full of tomes she’d wanted to purchase, but she had selected a few general texts on the Wizarding World, to brush up. All the Targaryens had been in Slytherin, except a few, according to the research she’d done on her family while she’d been waiting. She was worried though, she’d been so far removed from this world her entire life, she was practically a Muggle so…where would the hat place her?

In line ahead of her were two boys, both of them arguing over where the hat might place them, albeit only one was really _arguing._ She gathered that the one, auburn-curled and with blue eyes, was from a family with a long history of Gryffindors. She knew that many families all were placed in the same House, like the Targaryens. It wasn’t fool-proof though. The one he was arguing with said he wasn’t sure, they could go anywhere. Robb, the boy’s name was, hissed to the other that of course they would be Gryffindors because they were _Starks_.

The other boy, right in front of Robb, was sullen and appeared melancholic than anything else. None of the other kids seemed disappointed to be there, but he did. In fact, he looked as though he’d rather be anywhere else than in a school for witchcraft and wizardry. She frowned; how could he not want to be there? This was _incredible_! The boy had very dark curls, darker than anything she had ever seen it was like they had been dyed from an inkpot. His eyes were an odd gray, she had never seen anything like it before. Her eyes were violet though, so she supposed she didn’t have room to talk there. “I’m not a Stark,” he mumbled. She saw him twisting at his robes, peering around the other boy. “Remember?”

“Oh, come off it, you might not really be my brother, but you’re a Stark in blood!”

Daenerys hissed at them. “Oh, shut up, it’s almost your turn!” She made eye contact with the other boy smiling briefly. She hadn’t seen him on the train. She poked at him and he flinched, almost jumping at the sudden touch. “I’m Daenerys.”

“Jon,” he said, peering up at the hat nervously.

She pushed him ahead as they grew closer to the line. “What do you think you’ll be?” she whispered, as the Hat called for a boy that the other seemed to know, Theon Greyjoy, to go to Slytherin.

“Naturally he’s Slytherin,” the red-headed one mumbled.

There was a large boy behind her, fumbling over himself, twisting at his black robes. “Slytherin are dark wizards and witches,” he whispered. He sighed, disappointed. “My father is one. He says he’ll cast me out if I’m not in Slytherin.”

Jon peered around her to him and frowned. “Well if he casts you out then you’ll at least have a place here. That’s what I’ve heard at least.” He smiled at her when she gave him a surprised look. He shrugged and said nothing, but it seemed to assuage the other boy’s nerves. He sighed when Melisandre glanced at her scroll. “I think I’m next.”

“Jon Snow!”

_Snow_?

Curious surname. She watched as he moved slowly up to the stool and slid backwards on it. Melisandre dropped the hat onto his head, and she watched as it moved back and forth, seemingly arguing silently. Jon’s eyes were closed, and she could see his fingers clutching at the edge of the stool. The boy ahead of her nudged her, whispering. “He’s my cousin, we’re practically brothers. He’s going to be Gryffindor. Like all Starks.”

She thought they looked nothing alike to even be considered family, let alone brothers. She watched, intrigued, as the minutes ticked by. It did not seem to take this long with the others. Melisandre even began to frown. A couple of professors at the head table sat forward, and one, a dwarf, stood up on his chair, holding a goblet in his hand, thoroughly amused. She watched the one in the center, the Headmaster, a man she knew was quite elderly and whose name was Aemon, but no last name, stared ahead with glassy white eyes, unable to see but smiling still, waiting.

All the students began to shift and look at each other. Jon’s eyes popped open and he stared up at the hat in horror, as it still had not spoken. She wondered if it was a mistake. Perhaps he was not supposed to be there? She blinked, mouth forming an ‘o’ in shock. The boy ahead of her, his cousin, stared in equal horror. Melisandre glanced at the fires ahead of her, as though she were trying to see into them, and after a long while, the Headmaster stood and called out, clapping his hands together, oddly amused. “We have a Hatstall everyone! This does not happen often! My, my boy, you must have an interesting history! The Hat has not been this confused since my Sorting!”

_Perhaps it was not a bad thing then?_

“What happens now?” she whispered to Robb. He clearly had wizards in his family. Maybe he knew.

He shook his head hard, fear crossing his face. “I don’t know.”

The Hat’s tear at the brim finally opened; it had been near ten minutes. Jon’s eyes widened, staring up, face pink from embarrassment at everyone staring at him. The Hat shook, shouting for them all.

“ _SLYTHERIN!_ ”

She applauded, a table to the far-left erupting into extreme cheers and calls. They were chanting that they got the Hatstall, clearly, he was a good one for them. She glanced at Robb, whose mouth had fallen, unable to process. He looked like someone told him his dog had died. She poked him. “I think you’re next.

“But…he’s…no Stark has…”

“Robb Stark!” Melisandre exclaimed.

She watched him trudge up, staring angrily at Jon, who had almost fallen off the stool and gone to sit at the Slytherin table, not looking at him. His pale face was somehow even paler. She didn’t understand the upset of Robb, perhaps because he knew he would be separated. Perhaps he would…she lifted her eyebrows, watching, the hat touching the top strands of Robb’s hair before screaming:

“ _GRYFFINDOR!_ ”

“Well I guess bloodlines aren’t everything,” she said, trying to use it to make Sam feel better, if he didn’t go to the house where his father was. She honestly did not think Sam was fit for Slytherin, based on her reading of the house’s preferred qualities. She guessed Hufflepuff for him.

Sam flushed. “I guess.”

_It’s my turn._ She took a deep breath, walking slowly forward at “Daenerys Targaryen.” She hadn’t felt nervous, but now with everyone staring at her, blinking and gaping, she felt on display. There were some mutterings, she heard someone whisper loudly “ _So that’s a Targaryen, huh? Look at her hair!_ ”

She moved slowly to the stool and sat up on it, lifting her eyes carefully as Melisandre set the hat onto her head. She gasped when all of sudden there was a tinny voice in her ear.

_Interesting, interesting, two in one night, eh? My, my, my, fascinating history here I see…dragons, oh my, that is rare…you have their cunning, their fierceness, their ambition…blood of the dragon…fire and blood…hmm…_

Dany remembered reading that _fire and blood_ were the words for the Targaryen house and were on their crest. She frowned. “I am the only Targaryen with magic left,” she whispered. “How can there be two in a night?”

_Look at those brains! Impulsivity I see too…quite an odd combination of course but not completely rare and what is this…oh goodness…hmm…yes, yes, two in one night they will wonder about that for certain…bravery, bold, and nerve, but we also have a thirst to prove yourself…_

“I just want to show I can do it,” she muttered. _How was that thirst to prove yourself?_ She sighed. “I don’t really care where you put me. Even Slytherin is fine.”

The Hat carried on, not addressing her comments, still wondering to itself. _Fairness, yes of course, you want to achieve your ends…within reason of course…I see here…unless backed into a corner but that’s where the nerve comes in…hmm…very difficult, very difficult…_

The Hat was busy chattering in her head, arguing with itself and in a way with her as she tried to justify whatever it was saying. She had no idea that the rest of the hall was starting to worry out loud again. Melisandre was gaping and the Headmaster was positively gleeful. Something was happening but she couldn’t focus on it, she was too busy trying to figure out what the Hat was deciding. It seemed now that it was arguing with itself over Slytherin or Gryffindor. “I really don’t care,” she said again.

They said that Slytherins were bad wizards but Gryffindors were almost too stubborn and brave for their own good. She wasn’t sure which one she would become, because she also heard and read that Salazar Slytherin was highly pragmatic. She was a pure-blood, that was preferred for the Slytherins. She finally realized, jaw falling open, as the Hat continued to think, that it had happened again.

_Another Hatstall._

They never happened; one in every fifty to a hundred years, but now it had happened not once but… _twice._ _In one night._ “Wow,” she whispered, smiling briefly. Maybe it was because she was practically a Muggle, she wasn’t used to this world. She blinked and looked up at the hat again, scowling. “Could you make up your mind? We haven’t got all night you know.”

The Hat chuckled and spoke to her again, before the rip opened at the top. “It happened twice tonight, both of them were quite a fight, brains, cunning, and all Targaryen, I declare her for…

_SLYTHERIN!”_

The table on the left cheered again, a couple of students began to chant that they had the two Hatstalls of the night, and it was a famous house, and the Sorting Hat must like them the best of course. She could barely feel her feet as she went to the table, bypassing a couple of girls who were on the train with her to sit beside Jon Snow. He looked relieved, some people at the table sneering at him. She smiled over at Jon. “I didn’t want you to be left out,” she teased, folding her arms on the table. “Being the only Hatstall.”

“Where else did it want to put you?” Jon asked, before he looked over at the large boy from behind her take the seat for his Sorting.

She narrowed her eyes, also watching the Sorting continue. “Gryffindor I think.”

Jon curiously turned his head to focus on her. “Oh?”

“Apparently it was my daring and nerve.” She applauded, pleased that Samwell Tarly went to Hufflepuff. She smiled over at Jon Snow. He also seemed happy for the other boy. “I hope his father doesn’t come calling on him.”

“I’m sure he will be fine.” Jon seemed determined to make sure of it. He explained. “He was in the train car with us. He’s very kind.”

She grinned. She looked over as a redheaded girl skipped to the seat, sat down, and a moment later the final student, Ygritte Wilde, was placed in Hufflepuff. The girl walked down the aisle beside them and gave Jon Snow a wink. His cheeks went pink. She frowned. “You know her?”

“Um…met her on the train. She’s…interesting.”

“See you on the Quidditch pitch Crow!” Ygritte shouted from her seat at Hufflepuff.

_Crow?_ “You?” she laughed. “Crow?”

“She said I looked like a crow with my black hair and black robes.” He was barely eating, despite all the food in front of them. He seemed very uncomfortable anyway, sitting like he was not used to having this many people around. He looked over at Robb, who was morose, staring at him, but there was a girl beside him that had been sorted earlier, named Talisa. She was trying to engage him in conversation. She would have to find out why they had different surnames, even if they were brothers. He twirled his goblet around. “So Targaryen? I guess that’s why it ended up putting you here.”

“I guess.” She reached over and grabbed a drumstick from the turkey before her, setting it on his plate and nudging it towards him. “Come on, you’re too skinny. Eat.”

He glanced at Robb, who hadn’t started eating yet, was too busy leaning over to chatter with the Greyjoy at the bench behind him at their table. He met her eyes again and shook his head. “Can’t. Not until he eats.”

_What!?_

It seemed Robb realized that as well and called at his brother. “We’re not at home Jon, you can eat when you want. This is a new world we’re in now!” He grabbed hold of his fork, stabbing at a piece of ham and grinning. “My mother isn’t here to knock you down. Come on then!”

One day she would have to find out what they were talking about, she vowed, taking a hunk of bread from one of the plates. She met Jon’s gray eyes again, smiling softly. He returned the smile and she was pleased that it actually met his eyes this time.

They finished with their feast, the Headmaster spoke of a few announcements, reminding people that they couldn’t do magic in the hallways, avoid the Forbidden Forest, and that there would be a new addition to the pets policy. “We’ve always welcomed owls, cats, and toads, but I am pleased to announce that we will have a real life direwolf in our ranks this year!”

Everyone buzzed with excitement and she frowned, glancing at Jon. “What’s a direwolf?”

Jon smiled behind his hand, leaning in and whispering. “A giant wolf basically. He’s mine. My father got special permission to let him come. Otherwise he’d just come anyway.”

She grinned. “You are already causing trouble, huh?”

It seemed he just had to get away from his brother, because he smiled again, this time rather cheekily adding. “I always cause trouble; people just don’t tend to notice.”

_Whatever did he mean by that?_ She climbed off the bench when they were dismissed, walking with him and the rest of the Slytherins, pausing to wait for him to say goodbye to Robb, who rushed off towards the changing staircases while they went to the hallway leading to the dungeons. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her robes, in awe at all the moving portraits and waving at them when they squealed that another Targaryen had returned to the castle.

They learned the password for the dungeons: _Aegon the Conqueror_ and then entered, where she found that it was quite comfortable for a dungeon. There was a large window that looked out to the lake. She turned to Jon, who wasn’t sure what to do, looking towards the corridor that led to the boy’s dormitories.

She wasn’t sure what prompted her to do it, but she reached over and gave him a hug; he seemed like he needed it. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, let’s go to breakfast together, yes?” She didn’t wait for his reply before she bounded backwards, silver braids bouncing on her shoulders, rushing to the other side of the common room.

“Dany!”

She turned, beaming at Jon, who was smiling at her. “Yeah?”

The boy who had seemed so morose when she first met him in line seemed relatively happy. He stepped backwards towards the corridor, lifting his hand in a slight wave. “I’m glad that you’re in Slytherin with me.” Then he turned and disappeared.

A flush crept up the back of her neck. She wasn’t sure why, she was never really embarrassed. She giggled to herself and ran to her room, with the other first year Slytherin girls, finding her trunk waiting at her bed. She flipped it open and began to unpack, vibrating with excitement for the following day. And it wasn’t just because they were starting lessons.

She was excited to see Jon Snow again.

Something told her that this whole _witch_ thing was going to be quite an interesting change in her life. One Dany very much looked forward to experiencing.

**fin.**


	2. years 1, 2, 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scenes from Jon and Dany's years one, two, and three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I ended up writing this during a meeting. I didn't want to commit to a full-blown multi-chapter fic with plot, so I ended up just doing a few little snippets from their first, second, and third years. There's a thread of some very, very, very faint plot with their family line, but that's about it. 
> 
> Maybe I'll commit to a full-blown one with them as adults in this world at a later date, for now, this is just little fluffy tidbits. Oh and anyone wanting like full-blown Jonerys romance, uh, they're like between 11-17 in this fic, so it's not happening until the very end.

**I. Year One- Wands**

"Your wand is pretty weird."

Jon glanced at the wand in his hand, which absently was making it snow above their corner of the Slytherin common room. He shook it idly, the snow stopping. He turned the pale wood in his hand, the polished handle blood red. He shrugged. "It's weirwood, all Starks get their wands from a local maker, Three-Eyed Raven, he uses it a lot there."

Dany twisted hers in her fingers. "I got mine in London." She studied the oak wand, fourteen inches and rather sturdy, remembering that the wandmaker told her it was a strong wand, rather temperamental, with dragon heartstring core. The handle was in the shape of a dragon, fashioned in the shop, the top of it curving slightly as though the dragon were hugging her palm. It was a bit extra, but Viserys had agreed to pay more so she could have the best one. It was the one thing she had been most excited about getting, Melisandre told her it was the most important item on the school list. She drew circles in the air with it, sparks and fire emitting from the tip, one of her favorite things to make.

He looked at his wand again. "The core is the most important part, some say. “ He shrugged. “Mine has direwolf hair in the core."

"That's pretty cool."

"Robb's wand is hawthorn." He frowned briefly, ducking his head and looking at their Potions textbook for the assignment they were trying to finish before bed. His voice dropped, whispering. "Not even my father's wand is weirwood."

She picked up the wand, running her fingers over the smooth white shape. It was rather long, the red handle smooth, the weirwood resembling birch, except it had veins of pale red in it instead of black. It felt brittle, but when she tried to bend, it refused to give. Stubborn, she figured, suited him. She handed it back and he took it, their fingers brushing. The wand instantly hissed, sparks scattering over their papers. She yelped, smothering the flames with the hem of her robes. "Whoops!" she exclaimed, giggling. Her cheeks warmed, seeing his face also turn pink in embarrassment. "Guess I got a little excited."

"You and your fire." He tried to laugh, but it ended up being a cough. She smiled; a bit pleased that she’d flustered him. It could be so easy sometimes with him. He picked up the book again, sighing in defeat. "I'm never going to get this potion right."

"Potions is easy,” she snorted. She scowled at the assignment for Ser Jorah. “It's Defense Against Dark Arts that's hard."

It was his turn to snort. "That's the easiest."

“Agree to disagree,” she giggled. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d disagreed on something. She leaned back onto the settee, kicking her feet over the arm of it and sighing, picking up her roll of parchment and her quill. "Tell you what, you help me with discussing the differences between hexes and jinxes and I'll help you with that Forgetfulness Potion."

"Yeah I forgot how to make it."

They both stared at each other a moment, until devolving into giggles, first at the fact that it was a rather amusing little joke and then at the fact that it was _Jon Snow_ who made the joke. His sense of humor was so dry that sometimes she didn't realize when he was being funny. She threw a crumpled piece of parchment at him, sliding off the settee onto the ivy carpeted stone floor to the low table strewn with all their schoolbooks and supplies. "Come on, let's get started."

They worked steadily for about an hour, until she picked up his wand again, thinking back to what he said. About the core. About how not even his father had a weirwood wand. Jon Snow was something different, that was for certain. "Direwolf hair, huh? That's not common."

"You and my wand," he commented, amused at her interest.

It was just so uncommon, this Jon Snow. She was still trying to figure him out even after a few months together, sharing classes and most all of their time. They bonded over being Hatstalls, of being the odd one out. Jon, because of his Stark blood yet his Slytherin placement and her because well, she was a _Targaryen._ Everyone gave her funny looks, expecting her to explode into flame or set them on fire.

The wandmaker who gave her, her wand said the dragon heartstring in her wand was curious, as it came from the heart of a famous dragon, Balerion the Black Dread. “ _Your ancestor, very curious indeed._ ", he'd told her, giving her a funny look. She had simply flushed, accepting the wand. He looked at Viserys, who was scowling, annoyed he couldn’t get a wand. The wandmaker said that all Targaryens, save for a handful had wands with the heart of the famous dragon.

I guess they weren’t real dragons, she had thought, clutching the wrapped wand to her chest, never wanting to let it go.

They had done a paper recently on wands, as part of Transfiguration, discussing the pros and cons of types of wands for Transfiguration work. She had argued that the snappier the wand, the more difficult, as moves for Transfiguration had to be precise. Jon had argued opposite, stating it was the skill of the wizard, not the wand. They had fought over it, but she enjoyed arguing with him. He seemed like he would give in to anything, but Jon Snow could dig in his heels and fight with the best of them.

"Starks get weirwood wands, huh?"

He shook his head, taking it back and setting it on the other side of him. "Not all. Like I said, my uncle doesn't even have one and he's the Lord of Winterfell, the true Stark." He paused; voice quiet. "My mother had a weirwood wand. They buried it with her."

He never spoke of his parentage and she never asked. "I'm sorry about your mother, mine died too," she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t know much about her, Viserys never spoke of her. She wondered if her mother had been a good witch. If things would have been different had she grown up knowing about this world, being a child in it like Jon had been. She wished she had known her; known what House she’d been in at Hogwarts. If she had even come here, of course. She twisted her wand in her hand, rotating slowly, mimicking the move she knew you had to do for the simple shield spell that Ser Mormont wanted them to practice. Nothing happened. She sighed. “I can’t do defensive spells.”

He shook his head. “That’s not a defensive spell, it’s a shield to protect. It’s offensive, not to deflect, your wrist movement is wrong.”

“See? This is why I need your help.” She looked over his shoulder again, grabbing for the parchment. “Gods Jon, this is awful. Your Forgetfulness Potion will kill someone if you can’t come up with the correct ratio. Give me.”

They sat in silence, with her working on his Potions work for him and him fiddling with his wand. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him stroke it carefully, treating it with a bit more reverence. She smiled; he should be proud. He might claim that his uncle was the true Lord Stark, but it seemed only the good ones got the weirwood wands.

He twisted it and snow began to fall again, except it wasn’t cold and didn’t dampen or accumulate. It was quite nice, actually. She picked up her wand from her side, shooting a few sparks to sit in the air with the falling snow.

Neither one said anything, continuing with their homework, wands aloft, their little bubble filling with fire and ice.

~/~/~/~

**II. Year Two- Qudditch**

“Snow, what the fuck!”

He rolled his eyes as the Keeper for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, fourth-year Grey Nuhdo proceeded to shout him out for aiming the Bludger in the wrong direction, almost knocking out one of their Chasers. Since one of the Chasers was Robb, he really didn’t care. He glanced in the direction of the Hufflepuff Qudditch team, who were sharing the pitch with the Gryffindors and Slytherins that afternoon, smiling at Ygritte, who was one of the Hufflepuff Beaters.

He usually took backseat and played Keeper when it was just him and Robb at home; Arya always had to be Seeker. It was a surprise for two second years to make their respective teams, but most figured it was because he was being groomed for Seeker the following year when their current one, a seventh year, would graduate. He honestly didn’t even want to try out for Quidditch—Robb always was the better of them at sports.

In the end, he’d gone to the tryouts for the Slytherin team with Dany, who he wished had actually attempted to try out, but she just sat back, not interested, she just wanted to watch him play. To his surprise, he’d been selected. It had been the Head of Security for the castle, Ser Barristan Selmy, who had commented to him after tryouts, which he’d been watching with some of the Heads of Houses, that Jon was one of the most exceptional broomstick riders he’d seen.

Ned was never into Qudditch, he’d been Head Boy and in the Dueling Club. It was his mother who was the best Seeker Gryffindor had seen. He’d found her trophies in the Award Room when he’d wandered the castle in his first few weeks. There were some of her with another player, the Gryffindor Keeper but each time he looked at his image, it seemed to blur and he couldn’t focus on it.

Whatever his lineage, he was on the Slytherin team and Robb was on Gryffindor’s team. He hoped that they’d win the cup, particularly if it meant beating Robb, but the Hufflepuff team looked pretty good too. Especially with Ygritte.

He landed his broom on the ground, hopping off and smiling wide at Daenerys, who was hovering several feet off the ground on her broom, reading at the same time. The moment they’d had their first broomstick practice the previous year; she’d been the best of all of them. He thought she should be Seeker, but she wasn’t interested in sports, preferring to spin around on the broom, parrying and feinting. She referred to her broomstick, which she’d brought with her after summer break, as her “dragon.”

They had become rather close the first year and wrote back and forth to each other over the summertime. He’d wanted to invite her to visit Winterfell, but Robb would torture him endlessly if he’d invited a _girl_ to stay at their house. Sansa and Arya, his sisters, would lose their minds as well. He didn’t even want to imagine what Bran and Rickon, the youngest, would imagine. The whole family were still running bets on what other house he should have been in after his Hatstall.

He walked over, holding his broom in his hand; it was one of Robb’s old ones but it still flew pretty well. Dany’s broom was the most recent model—she said her brother bought it for her in the hopes that he could use her skills to help get him into the Wizarding world.

The whole school had been all up in arms over her Targaryen history last year, but thankfully it had died down after they returned. Her bloodline had meant nothing to him. Dany was the smartest in their year, if not the whole school, and she could do spells that many first years at the time and now second-years could dream of. Potions was her best subject, but she was also extremely adept at Charms. “What are you reading?” he asked, calling up to her.

She dropped the broomstick to the ground without looking, her feet lightly hitting the grass. She tossed the book towards him. “ _Family Histories of the Wizarding World_ ”, he read from the old cover. He rolled his eyes. “Why are you reading this?”

“Just brushing up on my Targaryen history.” She remained on her broomstick, hovering without thinking, beginning to fly beside him as he walked across the pitch. “My brother was apparently an amazing Qudditch player.”

“I thought your brother was a Squib?”

She snickered. “Don’t let him hear you say that.” She sighed. “My other brother. Rhaegar. He died before I was born.”

_That’s right, she had mentioned that before._ He couldn’t remember why he _didn’t_ remember. He handed her back the book and hopped onto his broomstick. He was about to suggest they play a game, perhaps let the Snitch loose and chase after it, he could practice, and she could have fun on her “dragon.” Except he heard his name called out.

“Crow!”

Dany wrinkled her nose; she was not a fan of Ygritte, although she was always polite to her. “What does she want?” she mumbled.

He frowned. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not!”

“Hi Ygritte,” he greeted, ignoring Dany. He nodded towards the club she still carried, her broomstick in her other hand. “You were really good up there.” His cheeks warmed briefly. Ygritte was in their Herbology and in their Charms classes. She cared little for spellwork, preferring to be outside.

She narrowed her green eyes, red hair tangled around her shoulders from flying. “Thanks. Listen, we’re gonna’ keep practicing, you want to join?”

He looked over at Dany, who kept frowning. He shrugged. “Sure.”

“Excellent. See you over there then.” Ygritte glared over at Dany, before she smirked. “Dragon Queen.”

He said nothing, even when Dany flinched at the term. It was a nasty nickname that most of the other students used. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t say anything to Ygritte. He glanced at Dany, who was still frowning. He shifted on his broomstick, lifting it a bit higher off the ground, peering down at her. “You okay?”

She shot him a dark look, cold and angry. _What did I do?_ “I’m fine, go play Qudditch.” She shot off on her broomstick before he could say anything, disappearing into a silver dot heading towards the castle.

“Crow! Hurry up, we haven’t got all day!”

Jon sighed, flying off to join Ygritte. He’d talk to Dany later; she couldn’t be mad at him for making friends with others. Seven hells, she had her own friend group too. Besides, he smirked, if she didn’t want to play Qudditich, she couldn’t fault him for wanting to enjoy his time. It wasn’t all about books and homework.

~/~/~/~

**III. Year Three- Jealousy**

“Just look at them, it’s disgusting.” Dany tore a piece of ruined parchment from where she’d blotted her quill too many times, crumpling it up and scowling over at the sickening couple in one of the study booths by the window. She sneered when Jon made a face over at her before wrapping his arm over Ygritte’s shoulders, the red head not even pretending to do her homework, too busy stealing kisses with Jon.

Missandei smirked. “You care a lot for someone who claims not to care.”

“Because I _don’t_ care about them. I just think it’s disgusting. Some of us are _trying_ to study for exams.”

To be honest she did sort of care. She only cared because ever since Jon had taken up makeout sessions with Ygritte, she never had anyone to sit with in the dungeons after dinner and before lights out, she’d missed having a partner in Herbology where they doubled with the Hufflepuffs, and he was _always_ off practicing Qudditch. It was annoying.

She sniffed again, returning to her studying. “He’s going to do terrible in Herbology without my help.”

Her best friend only smiled, returning to her book where she was reviewing Ancient Runes. “And who cares about Jon Snow’s Herbology score?”

“Not me.” She knew it was stupid. She sighed, fiddling with her quill. “I don’t even know what he sees in her.”

“He’s a thirteen-year old boy, it doesn’t matter what he sees in her.”

“Ugh.”

They tried to keep studying, but Dany couldn’t stop gritting her teeth and blotting her parchment. She finally tore another hunk off the roll, crumpling it into a tight ball before chucking it at Jon and Ygritte, a flick of her wand giving it extra propulsion, enough to knock into the back of Ygritte’s head, sending her lurching forward at Jon and biting hard on his lip.

“Ow!”

“What the fuck?” she cursed, whipping her head around and glaring at her. She pointed her wand at her. “You!”

Dany immediately had her wand up, a witch’s natural reaction to having another wand pointed at her. “Drop it,” she ordered.

“I’ll drop it when you apologize.”

Jon turned pink. “Ygritte, just forget it.” He made a face and smirked. “Dany’s just jealous.”

Her eyes widened. It was one thing for Missandei, but for _him_!? “Take it back!” she exclaimed.

“No.” Now he had his wand up, lightly tapping it back on his shoulder.

They both stared at each other for a moment before swishing wands at the same time, Ygritte dodging out of the way of the red leaves that flooded from Jon’s wand while Dany’s emitted orange fire, catching the leaves, before Jon’s hand flung out at the same time he made another move with the wand, ice showering over the flames, freezing to the floor.

She grit her teeth; he’d been working on a sort of ice spell in his free time and it bothered her that he hadn’t shown her his updates on it. Well, she had her own free time spells in the words. She shouted, forgetting they were in the library. “ _Dracarysio!_ ”

The fire erupted around Jon’s feet, trapping him. He stared at her, gaping, just as the librarian, Maester Pycelle, stumbled over, yelping and dousing the flames. He shouted at them both, Missandei and Ygritte disappearing in the fray, the two of them finding themselves seated in Pycelle’s office.

“What is the meaning of this?”

The hard as thorns voice of their Herbology professor, who also happened to be their Head of House, Professor Olenna Tyrell, as well as Margaery’s grandmother, appeared in the doorway, her emerald witch robes patterned in gold embroidered roses. She scowled at Pycelle, who handed their wands to her without a word. She sighed, arching a brow at them both. “Magic in the library?”

“They were cursing each other in the library!” Pycelle sniffed. “I suggest fifty points each.”

Her mouth dropped. “ _Fifty!_ ”

It seemed Olenna agreed. “I hardly think that is necessary.” She tapped her rosewood wand against each of theirs, watching the puffs of smoke appear from the tips, revealing their last cast spells. Her brows arched higher. “Oh my, it seems you two have been playing. My, my, my, I will have to speak to Headmaster Aemon about this.”

Jon dropped his head, but instead of being sullen, as Dany thought he might behave, he rolled his eyes and slouched back. “We were just practicing, is that not what the library is for? _Studying_?”

Olenna chuckled, wagging her finger at him. “Studying yes, practicing homemade curses, no. Fifteen points each for both of you, but I’m adding ten each for working on new material, quite ambitious of you both.”

She glanced sideways at Jon. “That’s it then?”

“Well and detention, but nothing either of you can’t handle. Now come along. Next time, practice your new spells in the classroom and not in the library and preferably not at each other.” Tyrell waved her hand, while Pycelle fumed at her. “Now get on back to the dormitories.”

They mumbled thanks, accepting their wands and hurried away. They said nothing until they got down to the main hall, before they headed off to the dungeons. She stopped, turning to look at Jon, who was moving along slowly behind her. She sighed. Maybe it _was_ jealousy. Jealous that he wasn’t spending evenings with her or sitting with her in the morning or being her partner in class.

He looked over at her, fiddling with his wand in his hands. He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

At the same time she mumbled. “I’m sorry.” They stared at each other a moment, before she smirked. “Guess that does it then.”

“Guess so.” He sighed. “Dany…”

“Jon, don’t worry about it. You have a _girlfriend_. You’re bound to spend time with her.”

“No, it’s not that.” He looked back down at his wand. “I didn’t know what you would think, I know you don’t like Ygritte.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“But it _does._ ” He ducked his head again, reaching to flatten down some of the wayward curls. Sometimes she wondered why he didn’t have someone just do an Ironing Charm on them and straighten them out. He was earnest, reaching for her, and to her surprise, he lightly squeezed his fingers around her wrist. They stood together, awkward, in the corridor. Anyone could have come around to see them, something that seemed to occur to them both at the same time, forcing each to step back, eyes darting away. He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. He whispered, so quiet, almost disappeared in the hiss of a torch from beside her. “You’re my best friend.”

_Best friend._ That was what they were, wasn’t it? Missandei was her best friend, Grey was one of her best friends too but…there was something different with Jon. Understanding. They weren’t just best friends, they were like the other half to each other, she thought, leaning in and wrapping her arms around his neck. She squeezed him lightly, eyes closing. “Best friends.”

They separated, squeezing their hands again. She smiled, glad that they had made up. She didn’t like fighting with him. He smiled back. “Come on,” he whispered. “Let’s get to the common room before the Queen of Thorns docks us again.”

She giggled. “Alright.” They walked together down the corridors, with her hands folded in front of her and his hands shoved into his pockets. They separated for their respective dormitories when they got to the common room, with small smiles shared between each other again as a silent _good night._

Except when she got to her bed, she couldn’t sleep, too busy staring at the green velvet canopy of her four-poster, arms behind her head, feeling like something had changed between them. She rolled to her side, closing her eyes around tears, hoping that it wasn’t going to be like that forever.

~/~/~/~

**IV. Year Three- Bloodlines**

There was nothing more boring than History of Magic.

Walder Frey died in his chair and somehow still got up the next day to teach, the only class taught by a ghost. One who droned on and on-- primarily about all the Walders of his family, most people noted. Even his father, the great Eddard Stark who could never say anything bad about anyone had commented that it would be their most difficult class, if only because they would struggle to keep their eyes open.

The night before Jon had been up to damn near three in the morning, courtesy of Ygritte losing her shit on him for not wanting to practice Qudditch and spend time with _her_ friends. He had gotten on her about being rude to _his_ friends. She never had anything nice to say about Dany, Robb, Sam, Theon, or the other Hufflepuffs that Sam had befriended—Grenn and Pyp— and then another Gryffindor in their group, Edd.

He noted that the only _friend_ he had from his House was Dany. Tehon didn't count, he was their foster brother, spending his entire life with the Starks rather than his own family. He figured it was because most of the Slytherins only wanted to go over their family trees and find ways to one-up Gryffindor. He still wasn't sure sometimes why he had been Sorted there over Gryffindor.

And then Robb would do something stupid, like start flirting with fellow Gryffindor Talisa and then attempt to show off by messing around on his broomstick or running headfirst into a scuffle in the hall, attempting to show off his dueling skills. The other Gryffindors would cheer him for his bravery and nerve and all that, while Jon would stand off with Dany, wondering why his cousin was dumb enough to risk his life for something as silly as a date with a girl. Dany would sniff "Gryffindors" and wander off, while he quietly agreed, following suit, realizing that he was kind of living up to the Slytherin notion of not risking your own neck unless there was something to gain— Jon didn't realize what Robb actually had to gain from any of his behavior.

He closed his eyes, thinking perhaps he could get a few minutes of sleep, when he felt something zing by his ear, ruffling his curls. He reached to idly run his hands through, before gazing sideways at Dany, who was making pieces of parchment zoom around the room before they caught fire and fell into the dustbin. He smiled, lifting his wand, about to send one of them careening into Theon's open, snoring mouth, when he saw Frey glance at something on his desk and then pick up most of the pages of a book, turning them in one heft and continuing on.

_Odd._

Dany noticed it too. "Professor," she called. "You're skipping over an entire section of Wizarding history from near ten years ago."

"It's not history if it's only ten years ago Miss Targaryen."

"But sir, the definition of history means things in the past. Ten years ago is the past, is it not?"

Everyone gaped at Dany. They shared History of Magic with the Ravenclaws, who should have been interested. Missandei was the only one who seemed intrigued, but her head was pillowed on her hands, quill dragging along the top of her parchment in idle movements, so Jon couldn't be sure.

Frey scowled, his pearly see-through ghostly body barely moving. "I make the rules int his classroom. No one needs to know about the Targaryen screw ups in the Ministry of Magic, least of all you. Now, let's discuss the establishment of the Twins and its role in the last Goblin War..."

_Targaryen screw ups?_

That only spurred her on. They left class, their last of the day, and while most went off to nap off the boredom, he followed Dany as she hurried through the corridors, her robes flying behind her. "Wait!" he called, his shoes skidding on the stone as they raced for what he realized was the Room of Requirement. He grabbed hold of Dany just as the door appeared, wondering what she wanted it to be. He yanked at his robes when she moved to slam the door, shrugging off the annoying garment and reaching to loosen his green and silver tie. "What's going on?"

"I found something here."

He turned, seeing that it was the room where people needed to hide things. All manner of junk, gods only knew how deep it went, towered to the cathedral-high ceilings. He picked up a strange wire object, flicking around with it as he followed her through the stacks and alleys. "What're you looking for?"

"Last week Baelish was tracking me down for some reason and I didn't want to get caught with my wildfire experiment, so I hid it here." She sidestepped a crate of the neon-green liquid, her silver curls bouncing on her shoulders as she took another turn. "And I wanted to come back but forgot until Frey refused to talk about my family in History of Magic."

"Targaryens basically _are_ the History of Magic."

"Duh. You ever wonder why no one talks about what happened ten years ago? It’s like everyone underwent some sort of collective Memory Charm." She clapped her hands, bouncing gleefully in place when she found what she was looking for. "Here it is!"

Jon coughed as she pulled down a curtain that half-covered a massive tapestry hanging on an iron bar. Dust and pixies scattered from it. He pointed his wand at the annoying creatures, muttering a Freezing Charm. He stared at the crimson tapestry, woven with dull silver thread and lined in black velvet. It probably was once quite beautiful, wherever it hung. He shrugged. "What is it?"

"Look."

He looked closer, realizing that the shimmery silver represented a family line. It was a family tree, except it looked like the names were on fire, dragon embroidery moving slowly around the sides, breathing the fire. _Interesting._ He pointed with his wand to the top. "Aegon the Conqueror."

"And his family. _My_ family."

A bloodline traced down generations, he thought, slightly envious of seeing where Dany came from. He had no idea, beyond his Stark name. Lyanna Stark gave birth to him, but his father was a mystery. Eddard Stark was his father, he'd always told people, even if he immediately received the sneer of "But you're not really his son, are you?" Especially from Catelyn, Ned's wife. She _hated_ him. He still had no idea why.

He followed the silver thread through all the Targaryens, pointing out a few that he knew where not in Slytherin. "Maester Aemon was in Ravenclaw," he said, referring to the Headmaster, who Dany had learned at the end of first-year was her great-uncle. Most people forgot he was a Targaryen, he’d been Headmaster for so long.

She nodded, smiling fondly. She pointed, whispering. "My mother was a Hufflepuff, believe it or not."

He tugged her to sit on the floor with him, both of them leaning back against a dresser, staring up at the tapestry of her bloodline. He nudged her shoulder, whispering. “How did you find out?”

“I went looking at old school registers.” She took a deep breath, ducking her head and tucking a few stray silver curls behind her ear, her arms wrapping around her knees. “You were…busy.”

He felt warmth on the back of his neck. It was probably a reference to Ygritte or Qudditch. They didn’t hang around _all_ the time. He nodded, saying nothing. He felt a tug in his heart, a bit of hurt that she hadn’t told him she’d gone looking for her family in the old registers. He wondered about his mother. She was in Gryffindor, she was beautiful, and she played Quidditch. That was all he knew. He draped his arms over his knees, picking up his wand and pointing towards the tapestry, the silver lighting as he moved it, following one of the lines from her father’s name to hers.

"Who is this?" He pointed the wand to a mark on the tapestry, lighting it up, but it was not as bright as the others. It appeared as though it had burned off, beside her name and her brother Viserys. Viserys was the only name that wasn't moving, Jon assumed because he was a Squib, the tapestry would not highlight him.

She shook her head, whispering. “That's the thing. No one talks about him. It's like they forget what they're saying and wander off when he comes up…when I want to talk about him, find more about him." She scowled, crossing her arms. "Rhaegar, my oldest brother...I found a photo of him on a Qudditch team in the Trophy Room…first-year...he was an abomination to the Targaryen name I guess.”

“How?”

She chuckled. “He was a Gryffindor. The only one.”

Rhaegar might have been at Hogwarts at the same time as his family. Ned would probably have been in first or second year when Rhaegar was in sixth or seventh. Probably the same time as Lyanna, his mother. _Maybe they knew each other, Rhaegar and Lyanna._ “My father might have been here the same time. If you want, I can ask him about your brother.” He rolled his eyes. “Not that he’d tell me much. Ned doesn’t talk a lot about the past.”

"Don't bother." She dragged her wand in the air, following the lines of the tapestry, voice soft, reflective. "All I know is that all the Targaryens died and we went to live with the Darrys and then Viserys took me away from anything magic. I think he was trying to squash it out of me. So he wouldn’t be the only one.”

"But he couldn't. You're one of the best witches in the school."

"I'm just a third-year,” she murmured. It doesn't matter the year, he thought, and she was significantly advanced. Melisandre even let her attend courses sometimes with the older students.

It didn't matter, he thought, gazing at the tapestry, the lines of Targaryens. They said a few of them even rode dragons. No one rode dragons— too dangerous. They were wild creatures, witches and wizards who chose to work with them often ended up burned, disfigured, or outright killed. He wondered about the Starks. They were pureblood too. "At least you know your family," he murmured, his wand following one of the flames. The white wand stood out against the crimson, bringing the pale red veins of the weirwood into stronger focus. He felt it vibrate and closed his eyes, trying to pull back on the magic that surged in him whenever he thought of his family.

It sometimes got out of control when he got angry. When he felt a surge of frustration at knowing so little about his mother and nothing about his father. Of Catelyn being a bitch to him for unknown reasons. He scowled, angry. “You know, the first night, I remember thinking…I don’t have to do what they want anymore. You looked at me funny, when I wouldn’t eat, until Robb did.”

“Yeah.”

He glanced sideways. “I’d invite you to visit the Starks on break, but I wouldn’t want you to meet Catelyn. She’s…unpleasant. She never liked that I got more attention from Father than Robb, that I got the same as him…I had to eat last sometimes. He got the first of everything. The best of everything. I got what was left. I sometimes didn’t even eat at the same table as them. I preferred being alone.”

“Oh Jon.” She wrapped her arm around his, her head falling to his shoulders. They were a lot alike, he thought, gazing back to the tapestry. They were both pureblood, but they were different. They were the strange kids in class, the one with the white wand and the other with the white hair. The dragon and the wolf. She closed her eyes, whispering. “I just wish I knew more about some of them. Things that books can’t tell me, but everyone who knows them is dead.”

“Not everyone.” He paused. “Maester Aemon.”

She shook her head. “He won’t talk to me…I only found out he was my relative when I found his name in the old history books…he keeps his distance. He’s the Headmaster…can’t be seen playing favorites.”

“Still.” _Maybe one day._

“You have no idea who your father might be?”

He shook his head, whispering. “I think maybe he was Slytherin or…I don’t know. I don’t know anything. My uncle refuses to talk about anything to do with my mother. Sometimes I think he actually _can’t._ ”

“What do you mean?”

He folded his fingers in hers, squeezing lightly, head turning to her again. “I don’t know, he just…like he can’t speak her name. He just closes his mouth and walks away.”

She scowled. “Like people with my brother.”

With all the Targaryens really, he thought, staring up at the tapestry. He dragged his wand in the air, lighting up the silver again, staring aimlessly, his mind going blank. The wand vibrated again, before he felt it warm, and his vision go dark, hand jerking slightly.

She leaned against him, whispering, somewhat frantic. "Jon."

When he opened his eyes, he saw that his wand had pointed to the dark spot where Rhaegar Targaryen's name was, except he'd somehow lit it back on fire, the name in script standing out, as if it had just been newly inscribed. "Whoa," he whispered.

"I know." She gave him a funny look, but said nothing.

It was so weird. He tried not to think of his father, of the memories of Ned walking away and muttering _”Later”_ when he asked about his mother or father. He just learned never to speak of it. He closed his eyes briefly, fist gripping so tight on his wand he felt it grow icy-hot, shocking his eyes open and staring into Dany's violet ones.

She smiled, comfortingly. "We'll find him Jon."

"But I don't think he wants to be found. My uncle doesn’t, or he'd have told me."

"Maybe he doesn't know," she offered, trying to be helpful. Jon knew better. She looped her arm in his and looked back up at her heritage, her bloodline. She sighed again, whispering, "I wish Headmaster Aemon would talk to me about them, but...he doesn't."

Most people didn't even remember he was a Targaryen. He reached to cover the tapestry again. It would remain their secret, hidden there for just her when she wanted to look upon her family line. He tugged on her hand. "Come on, we should get going. Someone will wonder where we are."

They meandered back through towards the entrance, occasionally laughing at strange objects they found. Jon tripped on something sticking out from under a wardrobe, cursing. He kicked at it and in the process knocked over a box from atop it. "Seven hells," he muttered, kneeling to pick it up as Dany exclaimed how she'd located a bunch of Valyrian books from another stack in front of him.

He picked up the box and frowned as a necklace fell into his hands. He stood, idly turning it over. He knew better than to try to open the locket attached to the necklace. Robb had found a cool amulet in his grandfather's house in Riverrun but when he opened it up, waves and waves of saltwater and fish flew out of it and almost drowned him. He rubbed his thumb on the tarnished silver. It was engraved with an 'L' and there were roses around it.

Dany hurried towards him; arms full of books. "Look at these! Who in their stupid mind would hide these books? They're _gorgeous_!" She was momentarily distracted. "What's that?"

"Dunno."

She tapped it a few times, muttering something under her breath. She shrugged. "We could open it." He relayed the warning story of Robb and the fish amulet to her. She shrugged again and gazed around them at the massive warehouse of lost and hidden objects. "I don't think it has any outward curses. We could take it to Ser Mormont." Their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would know what to do.

"It's nothing." Except he couldn't let it go. He felt it in his hand, a heartbeat of sorts. He closed his fingers around it and shoved it into the pocket of his robes. "Come on. Let's go."

They ran out of the room, stopping only a couple more times as Dany found more books to take with her. He rolled his eyes. Her desire to conquer every known book on Valyrian was beyond him. He had no idea what it would get her in the long run, but she seemed to know.

In the common room, later, he lay stretched out on a couch while she sat on the floor, going over his Potions homework. he twisted the locket around and around in his fingers, wondering why as he held it he felt like he was forgetting something.

~/~/~/~

**V. Year Three- Animagus**

It was stupid.

Really, really, really stupid.

Except he was curious. He wanted to know. It was something he'd dreamed of and hadn't told anyone. Robb always said it would be cool, but thought it was too hard. _"What if you end up as a fish or something stupid? Not worth it. Although...pretty awesome to have the guts to do it._ " Jon figured if someone dared Robb to do it he would.

Except he thought it would be a way to be different. To show them that he wasn't the Bastard of Winterfell or whatever nasty name his father's wife had come up with to differentiate him from his siblings. He wanted to _show them._ He was Jon Snow. He was someone who wasn't to be messed with.

Which, he supposed, wouldn't matter if he lost an arm or a leg in the process.

He kept the Mandrake leave in his mouth as long as he needed-- one month. He kept watch on the lunar cycles, Dany checking him since Astronomy wasn't his greatest subject. It was _stupid._ Not even seventh years did it, but you know, why not now? They were learning about it, the basic processes at least, and Melisandre was too happy to give them some details of the actual process.

Ygritte thought he was cheating on her, which he thought was stupid-- sometimes he didn't even know what the benefit was of dating her other than to say he had a girlfriend and Robb didn't-- and she wasn't talking to him at the moment. Made it easier. He went to Tormund, the gamekeeper, asked him for some of the ingredients. Bit by bit he gathered the potion objects and finally went to Dany for help.

_"YOU ARE DOING WHAT!?"_

The silver braids on either side of her head almost stood up at her shriek. "Shut up!" he hissed, jumping around and looking to make sure no one at the end of their table heard them. He leaned in, whispering frantically. "It's just something I want to see if I can do."

"We are third-years Jon! We haven't even passed O.W.L.S.!"

Yet he saw the gleam in her eyes. The curiosity. He smiled, wiggling his brows. "You in?"

She nibbled her lower lip. "Yes," she whispered. She looked around them, shrugging. "I mean...if you're maimed or die, I'm not admitting to anything."

"Sounds good to me."

"What usefulness does this even have?"

He shrugged, spinning his spoon around in his oatmeal, trying not to look over at Robb and Theon, who were arguing over the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match in a couple weeks. He was sick of hearing Ygritte make fun of him for being on a losing team, when Gryffindor and Hufflepuff were neck and neck for the Qudditch Cup. He didn't much care. He scanned the room, feeling Professor Tyrion Lannister watching them over the rim of his goblet. They couldn't hide much from the dwarf-- he was Head of Ravenclaw for a reason, always questioning and always watching.

Dany sensed it, nodding in understanding. "I get it. It's something just for you." She picked up her goblet of pumpkin juice. "The potion is likely in the Restricted Section. I'll see about getting us a slip." She got up from her seat, wiggling her brows and off she went, waving her hand at one of the professors who was leaving. "Oh Professor Mormont!"

He snorted into his goblet; they'd have the slip for the Restricted Section in minutes-- Professor Mormont _loved_ Dany. He'd give her anything. Sure enough, she came back in about twenty minutes later, waving the parchment proudly.

It took a couple weeks after he removed the leaf for the potion to be ready, for the next phase. It would happen over winter break. Dany didn't have anything to go home to— she stayed at Hogwarts over the winter and spring breaks and stayed with Missandei during the summer months. He begged off a Stark spring break, saying he wanted to keep her company. Ygritte had been pissed—she was going back with her friends from Beyond the Wall and had wanted him to come. He still didn't get her jealousy.

"There's a lightning storm tomorrow night," Dany told him, sitting cross legged at the foot of his bed in his dorms. He was the only Slytherin in his dorms that had stayed, Theon went back with Robb. She looked out the porthole-like windows to the black water of the lake, watching as the giant squid wandered by. She turned to look at him, chewing her bottom lip. "Perhaps we should tell a teacher?"

He shook his head. "No, not yet." He ruffled the ears of his direwolf, Ghost, who was stretched between them, dozing peacefully.

"What do you think you'll be?"

"I dunno." He hadn't thought that far ahead. He just wanted to see if he could do it. He smiled at her. "You won't have to check my Potions homework anymore if something crazy happens."

She chuckled. "I've gotten used to it." She gathered the wrappers of their candy binge, tossing them into the bin. She sighed. "I wish we could learn the Disappearing Spell this year, but it is not until fifth year."

"It's an O.W.L. advanced subject."

"Boo." She picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder crosswise and flipped her silver braids up over the collar of her white uniform shirt, her tie sticking out of the pocket of her black skirt. "I'll see you tomorrow. Once it starts, we'll go to the forest."

He nodded, stomach flipping in anticipation. "Okay."

She smiled, supportive as always, and left, door closing with a squeaky hinge behind her. He flopped onto his pillows; hand tangled in Ghost's ears. This was either going to be very bad or very good, he thought. He reached over to his nightstand, removing the box with the locket in it, thumb rubbing the 'L' engraving, feeling it throb in his hands. He set it back in and shoved it shut, not bothering to change from his uniform before he fell to sleep.

The next evening they huddled around the potion. They stared at the sky. "You said it this morning?" she asked.

"And last night and all the sunrises and sundowns before, since we made the potion." It hadn't taken long, the waiting period, but he had been diligent, not wanting to start over. He swallowed hard, watching and waiting.

At the first crack of lightning across the sky, Dany shouted and he turned his wand around, pointed the tip to the center of his chest and shouted the incantation as he had in the morning and the evening before for the last week, since he removed the Mandrake leave and Dany prepared the potion.

" _Amato Animo Animato Animagus_!"

Dany pressed the vial, lightly smoking as the recipe said it would, to his hand and he downed it, forcing himself to drink every last drop. He closed his eyes and gasped, the vial falling from his fingers, cracking onto the stones beside him. They were in a rocky clearing inside of the Forbidden Forest, clear and secure, and large enough as they had no idea what he could become. Ghost stood beside her, silently watching, red eyes wide.

It happened first in his mouth.

Pain exploded in his jaw as he felt it length and his teeth grow. Dany screamed, falling backwards, and he didn't register her surprise at why, until he saw that he'd fallen forward, his back arching. He wondered if it was supposed to be painful the first time as all his limbs stretched and cracked, bones almost breaking as they moved into new forms, fusing and forming his new shape.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and suddenly he thought he could see everything; it was so clear, like every single leaf and speck of dirt was visible to him. He could _hear_ , oh gods how he could hear! Water trickling in a stream, the pulse of blood rushing through a body...he sniffed and there was an explosion in his senses. Damp earth, floral perfume, and the taste of the blood he now had in his mouth.

He looked at his feet and tried to gasp, but it was just a whine. _Was that Ghost?_ It couldn't be, Ghost was mute. He took a step back and stumbled, unfamiliar with having another set of feet. _I have paws._

"Oh Jon!"

Dany didn't sound horrified. He supposed he didn't have an arm sticking out of his back or something. He turned, peering up at her, but not much. He realized he was face to face with Ghost. The wolf leaned into him and sniffed. He could hear something in his head. A strange connection, one that was even stronger than the one he normally had. He looked at Dany again and she fumbled in her bag, removing a compact mirror. She turned it to him, silent, but her eyes shining and her smile wide, taking up her whole face.

All he could do was stare at the image back at him.

He was a wolf.

_A direwolf._

Where Ghost was as white as his namesake and his eyes blood-red, similar to the weirwood tree, he was jet black. His fur was kind of shaggy, but his eyes maintained their gray, and he noted that there was a patch of silver in the center of his neck. _Like a locket._

He looked up at her and then closed his eyes, thinking. _Change back. Change back. Change back._ He stumbled, gasping, falling slightly as he ascended to to feet, his teeth returned to normal and his vision went almost blurry. He couldn't hear as well or smell anything beyond his own surprise and fear. "Whoa," he mumbled, suddenly feeling like he was going to be sick. "Did I just..."

"You're an Animagus!"

He spun to grab her, laughing. "I'm an Animagus!"

"You did it!" she screamed, not caring who heard them, as far into the forest as they were. She flung her arms around his neck, bouncing up and down, laughing and squealing. "You did it Jon!"

He laughed with her, both of them grabbing each other and jumping around. He beamed at her. " _We_ did it Dany." There was no way he'd have done the potion right without her. He squeezed her tight, whispering. "Thank you."

"Anytime," she teased, closing her eyes and holding tight. She pulled back and wrinkled her nose, eyebrows arching. "Don’t think you have a one-up on me now Jon Snow. I'll find a way to beat you in something."

"I'm sure you will." He didn't say it, but he suspected as soon as she could get close to a dragon, probably on one of the Year Seven visits they did to various Ministry departments for a few weeks, to help them figure out their career path, she would be able to speak to them in a way that her ancestors had. He arched his brow. "You should try it. Maybe you'll turn into a dragon."

She chuckled. "No I don't think so." She looked at him again, voice quiet. "You have to register you know. Being an unregistered Animagus is illegal."

"I'll talk to Headmaster Aemon." He wondered how that would go, suddenly realizing what this meant. He swallowed hard. _I could get expelled...so could Dany…_ It was a serious matter, but…he didn’t want to share it for some reason. He knew the risks, he understood them, but…he would deal with it. He’d talk to the Headmaster.

Just not now.

He lifted his gaze back to hers, whispering. "But for now...just us?"

The dangerous streak inside of her, the one that said _fuck the rules_ , he saw it flash. Just a quick brightening of her violet eyes. She nodded, whispering. "Just us."

They walked back and he found he was searching for her hand. She took it, squeezing hard. They silently made their way to the Slytherin common room, as though they hadn't just broken all the rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. :)
> 
> Next: Scenes from Years 4, 5, and 6 include: A Pensieve visit, dragon eggs, Drogo, OWLS, prefects, summer with the Starks, and Patronus Charms.


	3. years 4 & 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon eggs, Drogo, and Patronus Charms-- years four and five for Dany and Jon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I've been ill and not been up to writing. This was supposed to have year six events, but it got so long and I wanted to get something out. Next time :)
> 
> And as much as I wanted this to just be snaps of life at Hogwarts for these two, I ended up putting in a thread of plot, argh.

**VI. Year 4- Pensieve**

Dany wandered around the Headmaster's office, waiting on her great-uncle to return from some matter that required his attention. She was grateful that beginning in her fourth year he had sent her a message that he would like to have tea with her once a week. She was excited; after three full years at Hogwarts she had only spent a handful of times with him, hoping that now she might be able to ask him for permanent residence at the castle.

She had been working on her speech, using Jon as her audience, outlining all the reasons why, even as a student, she should be allowed to live full-time at the castle. It was her only home. Even when she left on summer breaks, she never went to stay with Viserys. She had money that had been left to her in a massive Gringotts vault, an absolute fortune courtesy of the Targaryen dynasty. Viserys had no idea, of course, and she liked to keep it that way. She dipped into it each year for new school supplies, but so far hadn't gone into it for something more permanent.

Like an apartment in London, she'd thought, spinning a strange silver object on a table around, watching as it let off tiny rainbows on the wall. The couple Headmasters and Headmistresses whose portraits overlooked her clapped at the display. She turned away, reaching to tug at the tie at her neck, ensuring that it was smooth. She wanted to look put together; sometimes she felt she was a total mess.

She stepped off the platform where the silver objects were housed, looking around the high vaulted ceilings and taking in the cheery colors. She wondered if because he was blind, Aemon wanted his office in bright colors, in memory of what it must be like to see. She spun in a circle, her wand held tight in her hand, thinking of maybe asking if Jon could attend the next tea.

When he wasn't playing Quidditch, she thought darkly, thinking of his newfound love of the game, now that he and Ygritte were back together. They were so off and on, she had no idea until he wasn't sitting with her at breakfast anymore. She crossed her arms over her chest, robes ruffling as she wandered to a large cabinet, engraved with dragons and flames. "Interesting," she murmured, touching the handle, shaped like a dragon claw.

It opened, without her touch, hinges creaking slightly. She peeked into the cabinet, surprised at the sight of a porcelain bowl with strange runes along the edges. She took out her wand, frowning at the silvery strands that fluttered inside of it. It looked kind of like her hair, she thought, leaning forward. She touched her wand to the substance, curious, seeing images reflecting back at her. Blurry faces, they looked kind of like her. A face appeared, gorgeous, bright lilac eyes and pale cheeks, her voice like a melody. _"Uncle please, keep her safe, it is the only way."_

The face swirled and she saw someone else, still blurry, as if she were seeing him through a fogged lens, a young man with silver hair and indigo eyes, tears falling down his cheeks. _"Robert will not rest until he has her, he's furious, Lyanna wants me to help her, so I did...how was I supposed to know that this was all going to go straight to seven hells?_ "

The same face again, whispering. " _He wants a duel, I'll give him a duel, he is not going to hurt her or my son._ "

A soft voice calling out, different from the other woman's. " _Headmaster, please, I don't want any trouble...erase him from the world, make Robert forget, just...something...Memory Charm them all or something I don't know..._ "

Another voice, deeper, with a Northern burr. _"I made an Unbreakable Vow, I cannot go back on my word."_

A cold wash of air doused her, like she'd stepped under a waterfall, falling backwards from the bowl, stumbling over the hem of her robes, her boot heels going out from under her as she tumbled onto her ass, yelping. The room filled with titters from the portraits and a soft chuckle, a reedy voice chastising her. "Surely the last three years my dear should tell you not to go poking in magical things of which you know little about."

Dany whipped her head up, peering through her braids, raking them from her face, frowning at her uncle, who stood in his black wizard robes, his thin wand in his frail hands, staring straight ahead with his glassy white eyes. If you looked close enough you could see they had the barest hint of lavender in them, probably looked like hers when he had the ability to see. She blushed, embarrassed to have been caught snooping. "I am sorry Uncle Aemon; I thought the cabinet looked fairly interesting and well..." She ducked her head, even if he couldn't see her. "I am sorry."

"You are a Targaryen; it is in your very nature to be curious." He carefully stepped to his chair before the fire, a tea service already set out for them. He moved as if he could still see, everything set just so. She sat across from him; hands folded. He poured her a cup, stopping just as the tea reached the rim. He chuckled again. "My dear, what is it you wish to ask me?"

She thought of the blurry faces in the bowl. She swallowed. "What was that?"

"A Pensieve. I find someone as old as myself has too many thoughts in my mind, often I must take them out and see them together." He chuckled again, lifting his cup carefully, his voice softer now, a bare whisper. "You saw things there...your mother."

_And my brother._ She glanced at the cabinet again. "Rhaegar...he said something of Lyanna...is that Lyanna Stark?"

"Hmm, Lyanna is quite a beautiful name. It is common among Northern witches."

She chewed her bottom lip, staring at her tea, her stomach twisting. She glanced to him again. "Who is Robert?"

Aemon sipped his tea. "Robert Baratheon."

_The Minister of Magic!?_ She scowled. "Robert Baratheon is Minister of Magic...no one likes him." From reading the Daily Prophet she understood he was lazy and did nothing to solve anyone's problems but his own, preferring to waste away his time on retreats than on actual policy matters. He would surely lose his position one day, if it weren't for his strong political connections via his wife, famous witch Cersei Lannister.

"Hmm, as a boy here he was highly temperamental. He had quite a...rivalry with your brother."

"For Lyanna Stark?"

"For many things, my dear. It does not do well to dwell in the past. There are things we cannot change. Your brother is gone and sadly, so is Lyanna Stark. It is a period of our history that we do not look kindly on." He frowned again. "But that will not satisfy you, will it my dear? You have the sharp mind of a Slytherin."

She smiled. "You were in Ravenclaw."

"And your mother a Hufflepuff and your brother a Gryffindor. There is a reason you were a Hatstall, Daenerys. You have qualities of all and yet qualities of none." He cocked his head. "You can piece it together; you do not need me to do so for you."

There was so much swirling in her mind. Like the Pensieve. Robert, Rhaegar, and Lyanna. She frowned, lifting her face suddenly, almost toppling over her teacup. "Ned Stark...that was Ned Stark's voice."

"Hmm."

"An Unbreakable Vow...what...what is that?"

"A vow made, and should someone break it, they die."

_Oh gods._ She blinked again. It all seemed to be staring her in the face and yet she couldn't put it together. She looked over at him, arching a brow. "It would take an extremely powerful wizard to cast a Memory Charm over...over the world, would it not?"

"Yes."

"A Memory Charm so powerful that people could just..." She thought of Frey, bypassing an entire history. Of the blurry image of a Gryffindor Qudditch player Jon saw in the Trophy Room, when she could see him clearly as her brother. Her heart beat hard in her chest. "People could forget an entire wizard?" _Why would Rhaegar want everyone to forget him?_

Aemon seemed sad, his shoulders slumped, his voice thin and tired. "Your brother made some mistakes, Daenerys. It does not do well to dwell on them, as he did not want people to remember. What happened...happened. Now, let us move forward."

"But Uncle..."

"No." His voice was suddenly firm, hard. Quite a difference from his frail appearance. He smiled again. "Please tell me how your studies are going. I understand that Melisandre has allowed you and your friend Jon Snow to participate in some of her independent Transfiguration studies."

She bit her lip, whispering. "Yes. She is allowing us to...uh, study Pyromancy."

"Yes, Melisandre has been fascinated by Pyromancy since she was a student. As a Targaryen, I am sure you are intrigued by this area of magic. I have some books on the topic."

They continued to discuss her studies, no longer speaking of what she saw in the Pensieve. When she finished her tea, Dany ran off to the dungeons, finding Jon asleep on the floor by their preferred study nook, his feet up on one of the green couches, a book over his face as though he were pretending to read. Ghost was on the couch, happily chewing on a roll of parchment, she suspected it was Jon's Astronomy homework.

She woke up him, kicking him awake. "Ow! What was that for?" he grumbled.

What was she going to tell him? She opened her mouth, unsure...she thought of what Aemon said. Not dwelling in the past. It was hard, but...what would she tell him? Things that would likely bring up more problems. His mother was a soft spot with him. As it would be with her. She closed her mouth again, shaking her head. "Nothing. Come on, let's go see Tormund. I heard he got a bunch of nifflers for Care of Magical Creatures."

"Cool." He got up and wandered out with her, his hands in his pockets, white shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows and tie loosened. They left the dungeons and ran into Robb, who was going to see Theon. There were a few girls from Beauxbatons who were doing an international magical study exchange and of course they were going to flirt.

"You want to come?" Robb teased.

Jon rolled his eyes. "Ygritte will kill me if I go practicing without her."

"And yet she doesn't seem to mind you and Dany."

Dany scowled. "Oh shut it Robb, we're just friends." Robb made a face, before running off to find Theon. She glanced at Jon. "Ygritte doesn't mind we're friends, right?"

Jon pretended not to hear her, running off to the Great Hall, Ghost in his wake. She followed slowly, her mind still roiling with what she'd seen in the Pensieve, still trying to figure out why there was a threat of something and yet it was broken. She just couldn't put it together.

~/~/~/~

**VII. Year Four- Dragon Eggs**

In third year they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade on weekends. He enjoyed it, as it afforded him time to escape from the castle, gave the day something a bit different. They really didn't deviate from a set plan, even all through third year. Go to Honeyduke’s and stock up, visit Weasley Wizard Wheezes, maybe get a few other supplies from another store and then hang out at the Three Broomsticks.

He mostly went with Dany, but sometimes she went off with Missandei and Grey. He'd join Robb, Theon, and Talisa, or else his other group with Sam, Edd, Pyp, and Grenn. He drifted from group to group, a bit like a ghost, not really a member but not really an outsider either. The only one he truly bonded with was Dany.

So it was odd that she disappeared before they went to the village, claiming she had _studying._ She'd been acting strange for the last couple of weeks, receiving letters and not sharing them with him. She hadn't gotten them at breakfast either like most post but journeyed to the Owlrey or hitting up Tormund who passed her whatever he'd received for her. He wasn't sure what she was up to, but he didn't like that she was keeping it from him. She'd just been _odd_.

"What do you care?" Ygritte had complained when he'd voiced his issues. "Dany is weird anyway. Targaryen freak."

"Hey!" He'd stormed off after defending his best friend, which only made Ygritte angrier. He had complained about it to Tormund, the gamekeeper, who had hit him upside the head and said he knew nothing about girls.

He found himself following behind Robb and Theon, who were arguing over the chances of Slytherin winning the Qudditch Cup over Griffyndor that year. He was of mind that Slytherin was going to lose again, but that was because he wasn't playing his best. He had been distracted of late, torn between Dany, school, Ygritte, and keeping his Animagus secret from Robb. His cousin had known something was up a few months after his first transformation but hadn’t' started really pressing him until over summer break when he'd woken up and found Jon had fur on his hands.

He'd played it off as just magic being weird, especially since they weren't at Hogwarts practicing it, but Robb didn't fully believe him. He hadn’t pressed it, even though it was obvious that his cousin knew he was hiding something.

“We’re going to Three Broomsticks, you coming or not?” Robb asked.

He was about to agree when he saw a shock of silver hair making its way down an alley near the post office. He frowned. “I’ll catch up with you.”

“Going to make out with Ygritte?” Their teased

“At least I have someone to make out with.” Jon smiled at the sneer from Theon. He slipped off in the direction of the silver. He made his way behind buildings and thought he saw her heading into the Hog’s Head but it turned out she was headed up to the Shrieking Shack.

He wasn’t sure what purpose the building held now, besides being condemned. He moved behind a tree and slipped into wolf form, hurrying along the edge of the woods.

Dany sneaked into the shack, something clutched in her arms. He scowled, moving up to gaze through the window. He peeked inside and his eyes widened at the sight of her unwrapping a box, her hands shaking. He cocked his head, curious, but made no sound. He had no idea why she was treating the box like it was a precious object. It just had a single big rock in it.

She stared at the rock, her hands covering her mouth. Her shoulders began to shake. _She’s crying._ He slipped around the other side, trying to find an entrance other than the one she had used. He dug at a cellar door, until his ears pricked up, hearing footsteps. A shadow fell over him.

“Jon.”

He glanced up, head hanging slightly. He barked, but Dany was not fooled. She knew his wolf form better than anyone. He closed his eyes, shifting back to human form, hands in his pockets. “Hey.”

“You were skulking.”

“You were hiding,” he retorted. He nodded towards her now empty hands. “What were you hiding? Why were you all secretive? I saw you in the village.”

She bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit. He arched his brow and she sighed, beckoning him into the Shack. He followed, closing the door behind him. The interior of the broken-down house was freezing, light breaking through some of the gaps in the wood and the slats of the boarded windows. He knelt with her as she uncovered the box, revealing the black and red rock. She had lit her little fires around it, the kind that did not burn and smoke, but somehow still kept things warm.

The rock radiated heat. He glanced at her; she was crying again, eyes shining. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she breathed, touching her fingertips to the top of the rock. She stroked it as if it were a family pet, brushing over the little ridges on it. In the light, he realized the rock had begun to glow under her touch. “Don’t you think so Jon?”

He stared at it, wondering why she was treating this thing with such attention. _Like a mother with a baby._ Until he realized. _Oh no!_ He gasped, jumping back from the rock as if it had burned him. “Dany! That’s a dragon egg!”

“I know!” she squealed, clapping her hands and bouncing on her knees. She pushed her hair back from her face, her pom-pom beanie now slightly askew in her rush of excitement. She stretched on the dirty floor on her stomach, ignoring the dust that brushed up from the movement, her fingers once again touching the egg reverently. “Is it not the most beautiful thing you have ever seen?”

_Beauty is in the eye of the beholder_ , he thought, gazing at her flushed face. He thought she looked pretty beautiful, as excited as she was over this object. He shook his head, whispering. “Dany, this is serious, you could get in so much trouble for having this.” Dragon eggs were really rare and most of the dragons had died out. They were only found in Romania these days, under the care of specially trained dragon handlers.

Her silver brows slammed to a point. “Oh? Let’s talk about getting in trouble, shall we _Animagus Jon_?”

His mouth snapped shut. He closed his eyes, sighing. “Alright,” he conceded. “Fair point.” He looked at the egg. “What are you going to do with it?”

“I don’t know. I got it from a trader from Pentos. He said it has been dead for some time. It has turned to stone, but…” She sighed, dreamy, her hands folding together under her chin whispering. “But it is mine. It’s so beautiful.”

“And you’re going to just keep it here?”

“No one comes here. It will be safe.”

He sighed, staring at the egg. He wondered what would happen if it did hatch. They would have a hell of a time hiding a dragon. It wasn’t like hiding his Animagus status. That he just had to keep to himself. Dany hiding a dragon was another thing entirely. He glanced sideways. She had been so odd of late, keeping to herself, and not sharing much with him. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing. He was kind of glad they had this secret to share.

She jumped slightly at his touch. His hands were cold, he admitted, but he thought it was still something more than that. The distance between them. Her violet eyes met his and she smiled softly, her fingers tightening in his. “I’ve missed you,” she admitted. She dropped her head, closing her eyes. “I’ve been…off since Uncle Aemon…since I saw some things.” She frowned. “My brother…something happened, and I don’t know why but…everything got erased. For some reason he wanted his entire existence erased and…and yet I don’t quite understand why. He said he had a son, but I don’t…there’s no record of a son.”

He felt a warmth in his stomach, spreading through him. He frowned, reaching into his pocket, his hand hot as it closed around the silver locket, he had taken to keeping with him, the one he’d found in the Room of Requirement. He unfolded his fingers, seeing it was shining in his hand. “L,” he whispered, thumb running across the engraving. He glanced at her. “I’ve been thinking…I think this was my mother’s.”

“Your mother’s?”

“Yeah…I don’t get it but…I just feel something with it and…well…” He put the locket over his head and then shifted. It rested exactly where the silver patch of fur on his neck was. Dany’s mouth fell open in surprise. He shifted back, shrugging, taking it off. “I don’t know if I should open it though.”

She took it from him, turning it over in her hands, her voice soft. “I saw your uncle in the Pensieve, in the memories Uncle Aemon showed me, but I don’t know why. He said something about not being able to tell.”

“Not being able to tell?”

“Yeah, like I said, I don’t know why.”

There were so many secrets, he thought angrily. He never knew anything about his mother beyond the few things he’d unearthed on his own, all because his father refused to talk about her. He didn’t even know his real father. He had to keep his wolf side hidden now, although he desperately wanted to share it with Robb. Now they had Dany’s dragon egg to hide.

It was so much, sometimes, he thought, leaning against her. He took the locket, shoving it into his pocket. He would show it to Ser Jorah, their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Or Lord Tyrion. He liked him a lot more. Make sure it wasn’t cursed or something. He glanced at Dany, who was still looking at her dragon egg. He chuckled. “What if it hatches?”

“Then I will have a dragon.”

“Shit Dany.”

“You have a direwolf.”

“A direwolf is not a dragon!”

She ignored him, reaching to pick up the egg, cradling it in her arms like it was a newborn, her smile serene. “If this egg hatches, a Targaryen will have welcomed a dragon into the world once again. The world as we know it will change and I will have a dragon, that is all there is to it.” She kissed the egg, humming to herself. She reached her hand over and squeezed. “And you Jon Snow, will not tell anyone.”

He sighed. No, no he wouldn’t. That much he knew for certain.

~/~/~/~

**VIII. Year 5- Drogo**

“Can you believe we saw Khal Drogo! This is amazing!” Robb stood on his toes, trying to see over the mass of people cheering for the Dothrak Screamers, the Quidditch team that Robb supported, because he was a huge fan of their famous Chaser. Drogo should have been a Beater, given his size, but he was one of the best broomstick riders in the world and as Chaser his team was all but unstoppable, racking up so many points that if they didn’t catch the Snitch it never mattered.

Jon thought it was silly, all this craziness for one Quidditch player. He looked around but had lost sight of Dany in the crowd. They were spending the summer together, an invitation he had been terrified of offering, but grateful that she’d answered. His sister Sansa would be starting at Hogwarts the following year and he thought maybe she wouldn’t mind a friend.

It became clear that Dany and Sansa had absolutely nothing in common, but his younger sister Arya and Dany had gotten on splendidly. They spent days broomstick riding, playing Quidditch, and Arya questioned Dany nonstop about her Targaryen heritage.

He didn’t understand why his uncle was so odd about Dany coming to stay. His aunt was always a cow, so he fully expected her to sniff and make a fuss, claiming Dany could come stay so long as she did not sleep in his room and Robb got to invite someone too. Theon already spent most breaks with them, so that was a non-issue. Ned had been awkward—strange even—but he had allowed her to come.

They had spent a lot of time trying to find ways to hatch her dragon egg, but nothing worked so far. Dany had even tried sitting on it to keep it warm at one point, then threatened to hex him if he threatened to tell anyone. He had laughed, then spent all the other bit of time showing her Winterfell. The castle was considerably smaller than Hogwarts, but it had its drafty passageways, moving portraits, and the occasional disappearing door.

Ned surprised them with the tickets to see the Qudditch match the other day, he had received them from the Minister himself, Bobby B they jokingly called him, but he was an old friend of Ned’s from Hogwarts days. Jon hated him—he was fat, arrogant, and a terrible wizard—somehow, he’d become Minister of Magic though. Probably because Maester Aemon had refused it for so many years.

He wondered where Dany had gone off, turning to Robb and shouting above the screaming of fans, all waving plastic sparkling arakhs, one of the souvenirs offered at the match, since the Dothraki Screamers’ mascot was a warrior with an arakh riding a horse-shaped broomstick. He dodged one that almost hit him in the head, scowling and ducking under a few more, shouting for Dany.

He came upon Arya and Sansa, who were both eating ice creams and wearing t-shirts with a half-naked Khal Drogo on them. “Father is going to be pissed when he sees those,” he warned them.

“The ice cream?” Arya asked innocently.

He rolled his eyes. “You see Dany anywhere?”

They exchanged looks that he did not like at all. “Um,” Sansa licked at her ice cream, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes towards the parade. “You might want to check where Drogo is.”

_Why?_

He frowned, turning again, but unable to see anything. He grumbled, marching over to a table and climbing atop it, grabbing his wand and pointing to the table. “ _Wingardium Leviosa._ ” It levitated enough so he could see over everyone, ignoring the shouts of some people surprised at a wizard riding a table up about ten feet into the air.

He gazed out to the parade route, scanning the people, and then he saw it. His jaw dropped. _No…no, no, no, no, no, no!_ He had no idea why he was so angry. He should have been kind of jealous maybe, because it was _so cool_ but he suddenly glowered, eyebrows slamming together and his hand fisting tight around his wand, the weirwood vibrating as it channeled his emotions. “No!” he exclaimed, red sparks flying.

He yelped, the table letting go and the charm breaking, dropping him hard to the earth. He cursed under his breath, ignoring the complaints of a group of old wizards and witches, and pushed hard through the crowd again, staring as Dany went through the parade, perched _on top of Khal Drogo’s shoulder!_

“Look at Dany!” Robb shouted, laughing and jumping onto him, waving. “Can you believe it? How’d she get that close!?”

Jon grit his teeth. “I can think of a few ways.” They had to do with the fact that somehow over summer Dany’s long silver hair had grown another couple feet, turned glossier, and her eyes somehow brighter. He didn’t quite understand why _anyone_ would be interested in bookish Dany, especially a famous Quidditch player.

“So cool, I hope she can get us close to him for his autograph!”

“Fuck the autograph!” He was livid. Here he was searching for her, worried about her, and she was gallivanting with Drogo! His shirt was not even on! He squinted angrily. “He’s so much older than us!”

“He’s like seventeen actually.”

They had all celebrating their fifteenth birthdays that year. He didn’t care much about that, it was still _old._ He spun around, pushing by Robb who was now laughing for some _dumb_ reason and stormed off, unsure where he was going.

A considerable amount of time later, he came across Dany, who was running towards them, laughing hysterically as Arya and Sansa tackled her, demanding to know all about how she was able to meet _Khal Drogo._ He stared at her, arms crossed. “Where the seven hells have you been? We have been waiting.”

She sniffed. “Well I apologize.”

Ned smiled warmly at her, waiting with the Portkey that would take them back to Winterfell. “No need Dany, we are still waiting on Theon to finish up with his sister.” He checked his watch, a series of constellations on the timepiece instead of numbers. “He should be done soon; I believe he was just collecting some post he had received on Pyke, I will go see.”

That left them all standing there around the Portkey—a tattered saddle—Jon wanted to hit it, lest he end up back in Winterfell without everyone. He couldn’t wait until he could Apparate without having to rely on any of the adult witches and wizards around them.

Mostly so he could get away from Dany.

Her pale cheeks were flushed red, silver braids adorned with bells like the ones that Drogo wore in his hair and beard. She had changed into clothing akin to his, a leather wrap top and handwraps, explaining to Arya and Sansa that they provided better support for broomstick riding and didn’t hurt your palms when you were doing flying maneuvers.

He glanced at his callused palms, fisting his fingers into them, unsure why he was so angry. Robb was standing beside him, frowning slightly. “What?” he muttered.

His brother smirked. “You look a little green, Jon.”

_Green?_ “I think you are mistaken, brother. Green is for fishes.”

“Oh sod off.” He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets, muttering. “You want to show him up? Turn into a wolf in front of him, eh?”

A chill went down his spine at the implication, darting his eyes to Robb, but instead of seeing jealousy or anger, his brother looked amused. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Oh?”

“Hmm, think you could keep that secret from me brother?”

“Not here,” he hissed. They were _surrounded_ by family, Ministry, everyone. He rolled his eyes when Robb simply smiled again, his stupid auburn hair gleaming in the sun while Jon felt like he was hiding under a wolf pelt. He reached back to scrub at the knotted bun he’d tugged his curls into to ward off some of the heat. He stepped closer, voice a bare whisper. “Dany knows, just Dany.”

“Figured.”

He sighed. Ned was walking towards them, with Theon and holding the hand of little Rickon, who had demanded that he get a toy arakh, even if it was as big as him and weighing him down as they walked. He shot another glower at Dany. She was showing the girls things on her _phone_ , a Muggle device she insisted on keeping since she had been raised as one. The pictures didn’t even move! He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Doesn’t matter,” he said.

Robb rolled his eyes. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not!”

“You are.” He laughed, punching him in the shoulder, leaning in so Theon didn’t overhear from where he was walking closer. “Come off it Jon, when are you going to break up with Ygritte for good and tell Dany how you really feel?”

_I don’t feel anything for Dany._ They were _best friends._ He turned up his nose, looking back over to her. She looked beautiful, her ropy silver braids littered with the bells and her cheeks pink. The leathers and roughspun outfit of the Dothraki showed off the light tan her skin had obtained from being out in the sun all summer long. She laughed again; he thought it sounded just like the tinkling of the bells in her hair.

He wrapped his hand tight around his wand again. Robb reached and stilled his hand. He looked up; he was making it snow over them. He sighed. “I don’t like her like that,” he whispered. He was dating Ygritte. Sort of. They had fought big time over Dany coming to stay at Winterfell instead of her. He fully expected to endure some of her wilding rage on the Quidditch pitch the first week of term. Then they’d go back to making out in the corridors when no one was looking.

Dany appeared at his side, giggling. “Look!” She was showing him something on the phone. “Drogo allowed me to take a video, it captures the moment something happened like a picture. I guess it’s a Muggle way of having moving photos. Anyway, he showed me some of his Quidditch moves, I thought you could use them.”

“Why?” he snapped.

She drew back, eyes widening at his sudden shift in attitude. “Oh, well…”

“I can fly just as well as him. He’s a Chaser, I’m Seeker now. That’s different.” He scowled, pushing her phone away from him. “I don’t need Drogo’s advice on anything.” He leaned in and glared at her again. “And why do you even see in him? He’s too old.”

Dany gripped her wand, her eyes flashing purple fire. “Oh? He’s _too old_? Well maybe you don’t like him because he’s _too tall_ or he’s a better player than you!” She pushed at his chest with her free hand, knocking him back a peg. “Perhaps it’s because someone else has dared to look at me like I’m something other than a homework checker!”

“Dany! Jon!”

They both managed to tear their heated gazes from each other at the sound of Ned’s exclamation. Jon didn’t understand why everyone was looking at them funny. He glanced around; they had obtained the curious looks of others as well. He heard Dany’s quiet gasp and looked at the ground, eyes widening in surprise. _Oh._

Usually when he lost control of his magic—very rare since he never got angry enough to do so and he also hadn’t done so since starting at Hogwarts—he made snowstorms. Not the little flakes that fell above him when he was aimless or just upset. Full blown windy snowstorms that rattled the windows and accumulated in drifts by the doors.

Not this.

In their heated argument, he and Dany had somehow burned a dragon into the ground at their feet, blackened ash smoking around them, embers burning the image into the ground. He stepped backwards, staring at the sigil. He barely had a chance to commit it to memory when Ned stepped forward, waved his wand, and the ground returned to hard-packed earth, smoke and flame disappearing. He blinked up at his father, but instead of seeing anger at losing control or curiosity, he saw something that frightened him.

Ned looked scared.

He glanced at Dany. She was still furious, her throat tightening visibly. He moved to step to her, but she tugged away from him, muttered ‘thank you’ to Ned and stormed to Sansa and Arya. He looked up at his uncle. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Be very careful,” Ned whispered, gripping his forearm. His brow wrinkled; he was pleading. “Do not lose control of your magic Jon. You don’t know what could happen. Or who might be near.”

_What did that mean?_

Jon stood beside Robb, as they lined up to grab hold of the Portkey. “What was that about?” he mumbled.

Robb blinked. He chuckled. “Jon if you didn’t turn into a wolf I’d wonder if you were a Targaryen. You burned a dragon into the ground. There was a dragon in the air above you, like red smoke. Last time anyone saw that I think was when Targaryens were all around. It’s in the books.” He blinked a few times. “Don’t know when the last Targaryen but Dany was around though.”

_Her father, her brother, the one who died._ He looked over at Dany, who was as shaken as him. Their gaze met over the Portkey and he ducked his head, at the same time she rolled her eyes.

They touched the broken saddle at the same time and he felt the push and pull as they rushed through, tumbling into the grass beside Winterfell a moment later. He got to his feet and wanted to go to her, but she glared at him, eyes shining, and ran off.

_Seven hells_ , he thought. He screwed it up good this time.

~/~/~/~

**IX. Year Five- Prefects**

“Five points from Slytherin!”

“Dany what the…”

Dany pointed to the shiny prefect badge outlined on her black and green robes, smirking at Jon, who was slumped against a window in an alcove near the library, playing some sort of game with Robb, a game which she decided in the moment was against school rules. She had received twenty-five points for Slytherin a few hours ago from Lord Tyrion for her perfect use of a Silencing Charm in Charms, so taking five away for Jon being a completely… _idiot_ was fine by her. It also pleased her immensely that she had used the Silencing Charm on Jon.

She could not be certain why exactly she was so angry with him, probably because she had found that the series of sweets and other assorted gifts from Drogo—for the entire Slytherin House—had been strewn about and destroyed by Ghost, when she’d awoken that morning. She knew that Ghost didn’t destroy anything unless told by Jon, so finding him munching on a series of Chocolate Frog cards when she left for breakfast made it obvious who had told him so.

Jon’s irritation at her relationship with Drogo had bothered her more than anything. She had had to put up with him pawing at Ygritte off and on since freaking second year, so the fact that she now had a _boyfriend_ and he was mad about it just angered the dragon in her. She had been ecstatic when their letters came while she was at Winterfell, with the prefect badge enclosed in hers.

Robb had also been named a prefect. Jon had been named Slytherin Qudditch Captain in lieu of being a prefect, which also annoyed her. He’d been strutting around like he was Drogo himself. It irritated her as well that while Drogo was an incredibly good Quidditch player, Jon’s actual broomhandling skills were far superior.

She snapped at him. “You were doing magic in the halls,” she lied.

Robb frowned. “No we…” He shut his mouth at the glare she sent his direction. He lifted his hands up, chuckling. “I’m out of here. Don’t want to get burned.” He glanced at Jon. “Or bit.” He winked. “Ruff, ruff, dear cousin.”

She squinted, thinking that was an odd thing to say. She looked at Jon again. He smiled, his canines extending and the silver locket he still wore on his neck beginning to blend in with his green and white tie. “No!” she yelped, but he’d jumped up and run into an empty classroom. By the time she found him, he was darting around her legs, rocketing down the empty corridor. She growled, hurrying after him.

It was late on a Friday, many people were already in the dormitories changing from school uniforms into Muggle attire for dinner, or else lounging around the grounds. There was a Quidditch match the following morning, between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff and some were already getting into the partying spirit. She scowled, knowing that Jon was taking a dangerous risk shifting to wolf form— _like a common Gryffindor_.

She found him out lounging around by the edge of the Forbidden Forest, Tormund laughing at him as Ghost danced around his owner’s similar form. She shot Tormund a look. “You should not be encouraging this!”

  
“Ah, missus is angry at you,” Tormund teased.

“I am not the missus!”

Tormund pretended to bow to her, his blue eyes twinkling. “Well Crow, you best tuck your tail between your legs and apologize. This dragon looks angry.”

She put her hands on her hips, staring at Jon as he wandered into the forest and returned a moment later, his white uniform shirt and tie loosened and untucked. He yawned. “That was fun.”

“Dangerous! Someone could have seen!”

“They’ll just think it was one of Ghost’s friends.” He adjusted the locket on his neck, studying it for a second and then tucking it beneath the collar of his shirt. He shoved his hands into his pockets, his gray eyes intense on hers. He was pissed; he didn’t have a right. “What was that Dany? You’ve been wielding that prefect badge around for the last two months at me.”

She scowled. “I have not.”

“If Slytherin loses the House Cup this year it will be because you have taken every point away that I’ve earned.”

“And why shouldn’t I? You’ve been a right arsehole since…since…” She trailed off, storming to him and pushing his shoulders. “Since Drogo! I’m not allowed to have a boyfriend? You have a girlfriend!”

“No I don’t, we broke up.”

That had her reeling. _Huh?_ “But…” She crossed her arms, her brow furrowing. He wans’t kidding; he didn’t have that twinkle in his eye that he did when he was up to no good. In fact, he looked relatively bored by the entire conversation. It certainly didn’t bother him that he’d broken up. She cocked her head. “But I thought you guys…”

“We agreed it was going nowhere.” He paused, rolling his eyes. “Alright, I didn’t think it was going anywhere. She was always yelling at me.”

“You are an arsehole.”

“Aye, but for everything besides that. Not bringing her to Winterfell this summer kind of did it.” He locked his gaze on hers. He took a few steps up towards her, the toes of his black uniform shoes touching at her black boots. She shifted, suddenly aware of how warm she felt when she was this close to him. Especially after he had been in wolf form. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Yet she shivered. _What is happening to me?_

She refused to look him in the eye. Her throat went dry. “I’m sorry for that, perhaps you should have invited her over me.” She finally stared up at him; he was not very tall and yet he still was taller than her tiny frame. She blinked at the darkness in his eyes, the gray ring of his iris drowned out like a waning crescent moon. She tried to laugh. “Then I would never have gone to the Quidditch match and never have met Drogo. You could be happy with that.”

“Maybe.” He swallowed hard; whatever confidence he seemed to have was waning. She didn’t want it to go yet. He shoved his hands harder into his pockets. “But it was for the best, I guess. Ygritte and I…we’re too different.”

_And we aren’t?_ She knew that was a lie. They were more alike than they realized. It was why they had become so close so quickly. She reached for his hand, squeezing it tight. “I’m sorry I’ve been taking points from you,” she reluctantly apologized.

He smiled. “Guess I deserved them.”

“Maybe.” She licked her lips; they were so dry. She stepped closer to him, drawn by something. It was like that moment when they had gotten so angry at each other and lost control, burning that dragon sigil into the ground under their feet. She kept hearing things from the Pensieve the previous year. The sounds of the people whose faces she didn’t know, because her uncle had not been able to see them, only experience them. They were there again.

The strange massive Memory Charm that had _oblivated_ everything of her brother from most of the Wizarding World. The soft Northern accent, sad and melancholy, admitting to making an Unbreakable Vow. She thought for sure it was Ned Stark. She was just shocked at how whatever it was had been so important he would risk dying if he broke it. <i>What could be worth dying for like that?</i> She looked up at Jon again. He was staring down at her.

And then suddenly she was kissing him.

She had no idea why; maybe she was still angry at him for shifting in the middle of the damn corridor. Or Tormund calling her _missus_. Or angry that he hadn’t told her about his breakup with Ygritte and how unfair it was that she was dating an international Quidditch star and stuck here at Hogwarts instead of running off with him on the back of his broomstick. Or how angry Jon was for some reason at Drogo. Or maybe it was because she was just pissed off her dragon egg hadn’t hatched.

It could very well be that Jon kissed her first; Dany didn’t care. She moaned into his mouth, her arms around his neck, surprised at how _good_ he was at this. His lips were soft, but insistent. They stumbled together, until her back was against a tree on the edge of the forest. Someone growled; it very well could have been the dragon inside of her or it could have been the wolf inside of him.

The sky crackled. The ground warmed under her feet and yet at the same time she felt cold on her cheeks. By the time she tore away to breathe, she realized that the sky around them had blackened, lightening crackling and snow falling, while the image of a dragon burned in fire around them.

_I lost control._

She swallowed hard, stepping away from him. He seemed equally surprised. “Let me guess,” he murmured, cocking his head, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Five points from Slytherin?”

It was his way of saying things were okay between them. She chuckled, stepping away from him, her hands going into her pockets and removing her wand, waving it around to douse the fire under their feet. The snow stopped falling with a wave of his wand and the sky returned to normal again. It could never happen again, she thought. They were friends. They had to stay friends.

Dany tapped the prefect badge on her chest with her wand. It glimmered. “Better yet, five points _to_ Slytherin.”

Jon laughed, turning in a circle and clicked his tongue for Ghost, running with the white wolf back up to the castle, leaving her to trudge back, amused, but shaken.

~/~/~/~

**X. Year Five- Patronuses**

“Tell me again why we are doing this?”

The Room of Requirement had turned into a practice area of sorts for them, no longer filled with odds and ends of centuries of Hogwarts student items. She had wanted a place where they could practice in private, with no intrusions, and where no one could overhear them. She’d stood in front of the blank wall for a good twenty minutes before the door opened, finally settling on what she needed the room to be.

She grunted, getting up from the floor where she’d fallen, courtesy of the exhaustion creeping in as she drained her energy in an attempt to practice the spell. “Because,” she said, sighing hard. “Because O.W.Ls are in two months and I want to make sure that I can perform even this spell.” She also was curious. She squared off, wand aloft, eyes closing. “And because…you’re an Animagus. I want something too.”

“You have a dragon egg,” Jon said. The egg in question was nestled in its box, candles lit around it. He sighed. “How are you explaining this to Missy?”

Her best friend Missandei knew about the egg, but thought it was just completely dead, like most dragon eggs were. She had been curious about it; ever the Ravenclaw, trying to read up as much as possible, even procuring some books in High Valyrian, the ancient languages of the Targaryens, from an unknown source.

_”You don’t want to know,” Missandei said, not looking at her as she lugged the books around in her overflowing satchel. She chuckled. “Let’s say some of my old languages have helped me and I was able to get the book.”_

_“You didn’t go to Knockturn Alley did you?” Grey her boyfriend, had demanded._

_“Um…no comment.”_

Dany shrugged, closing her eyes, her wand loose in her hand. It was something Ser Mormont said she always had to remember, when it came to certain defensive spells, that she was always on the attack, the offensive, when she needed to remember that not everything had to start with fire and blood. She was just glad Jon hadn’t been able to get anything from his wand beyond a few wisps of pale smoke. Then again, he was an Animagus, he didn’t need to bother with learning a highly advanced spell if he wanted to stun the Ministry officials who would be administering their exams.

She thought of the happiest memory she could think of—getting her dragon egg—allowing the emotions to flood through her. “ _Expecto Patronum!_ ” This time, a bit more smoke came from her wand, forming an odd shape. She jumped, laughing. “Almost!”

Jon shook his head and got up from where he’d been sitting. He picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m out. You keep exhausting yourself. Don’t stay too long.”

“Don’t you want to be first at something?” she asked. She shrugged. “You became an Animagus, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, to prove to my family I’m one of them. I did.” He smiled quickly, sweeping his green and black robes from the floor, shaking them out and slinging them on. She always thought he looked good in the green and silver of House Slytherin. The red and gold of Gryffindor would wash him out, she figured. This way it made his eyes look silver too. “And I’m going to prove more soon enough. Just not on the O.W.L.s”

“Well you need to keep working on your antidote calculations, particularly for Draught of Living Death, Swelling Solution, and of course Deflating Draft, you know they are going to make us calculate an antidote for at least some sort of poison,” she lectured. She suspected Jon would do well on the O.W.Ls, but of course Potions was his worst subject. She rolled her eyes. “Of course, you can also score an Outstanding on your Transfiguration exam if you just transform.”

“Ha, ha,” he fake laughed. He grinned again, picking up his bag once more. “You could always keep trying to get Melisandre to teach you Pyromancy.”

“I’m getting better at it.” She had even managed to hold fire in the palm of her hand, after her individual lesson with Melisandre. Their Deputy Headmistress was positively ecstatic, her blood red choker—some said it contained her lifeforce and caused her to never age—positively beating with pride.

“Well don’t waste your time. Patronus Charms are needed against Dementors and other Dark creatures like that. We’re not meant to test that until N.E.W.Ts.”

Yes, but she wanted something for herself, she thought again. She was Daenerys Targaryen. She had something to prove. She waved him away, waiting for the door to shut. Her eyes closed again. _Happy memory, happy memory, happy memory…_ That’s what she had been thinking of, her dragon egg, the day she got her Hogwarts letter, the first time she held her wand…

_Jon’s smiling face at her over the table after the Hatstall._

She gasped, staring at the smoke that furled from her wand. “Oh,” she whispered. She swallowed hard. She lifted it up, thinking of that moment. The hatstall. Jon smiling at her from the table. Walking together to the dungeons. _Giving him a hug before running to her dorms._

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” she whispered, the happiness and the joy of the memory filling her, so her hair almost stood on end. She sobbed out, elated, staring as the thick cloud exploded from the tip of her wand, forming in the air and then…

Her face fell. Staring at the Patronus as it…as it… _loped._

Patronuses were your protector, they could be called forth not only to shield you from the darkness but to lead, to send messages even, and they were your heart’s true form. They were your soul, some of the books even said. They could change, depending on your emotional state.

Dany thought her Patronus would be a dragon. Of course it would be. She was a Targaryen, her words were fire and blood, and she even had a dragon egg to prove it.

The bluish, silver creature that ran around the room was not a dragon.

It was a wolf.

“Oh,” she cried, covering her mouth with her hands, tears flooding her vision. They fell down her face, obscuring the Patronus as it faded away. She closed her eyes tight. _It couldn’t be._

She was not sure what she was doing. It was a terrible mistake, she could never do this again. Jon could never know. She loved _Drogo._ That was her boyfriend. Jon was her _best friend._ She grabbed her bag and robes, running out of the room, skipping stairs and finding herself in an alcove near the Ravenclaw tower, crying into Missandei’s shoulder as her best friend comforted her as she admitted what she’d been hiding.

What the stupid charm had apparently revealed.

She was in love with Jon.

~/~/~/~

Jon lay on his bed, his wand held up, watching snowflakes fall around him and Ghost. He was alone in the dormitory; the other Slytherin boys had gone to a party held by Tormund’s hut in preparation for the Quidditch match the following day. He was grateful for the emptiness.

He didn’t understand why Dany was so seven hells bent on getting a Patronus. They were not going to test it. They shouldn’t test it, they ahd only learned about them, but Ser Jorah said that it was unnecessary for them to practice until seventh year, for N.E.W.T exams.

Except he was Jon Snow and he only ever wanted to be better than Rob, better than Theon, and all the rest. He had become an Animagus to show them he could do something. He was the only Slytherin in House Stark, something that still bothered him, and he was always trying to show them he was _not_ a bastard. Despite the fact he had no idea who his father was.

He reached to the locket on his neck, the ‘L’ rubbing in his thumb. It belonged to Lyanna. He was absolutely certain of it. He could not get it open. It was sealed shut magically, according to Tyrion, who had taken a look at it for him. Perhaps only the voice of its true owner could open it. Or some unknown spell.

He had been purposefully screwing up his Patronus. Dany could never see it. He felt Ghost’s red eyes focused on him, thinking of the evening when she’d kissed him, when he had realized that he loved her. He always had, he thought.

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” he breathed.

The silver dragon erupted from his wand, flying around the dorm, neck arching as it reached towards the small windows around the ceiling, before fading away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: years 6 and 7-- Arya comes to Hogwarts; Dany gets bad news; the egg makes a move; Dany explores Legilimency with some unforeseen consequences.


	4. year 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Year six: O.W.L. results, arya, and dragons...and questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:
> 
> I'm going to just say this and be done with it, and I know it is going to sound ungrateful and bitchy, but right now I kind of don't care. 
> 
> I have written a LOT for this fandom. I've written fics that are pretty long and I've updated far more frequently than I probably should have, to be honest. I know there are a lot of other writers on this site with fics that are in the 50-60 chapter range and they add a new one every single day. I know there are writers on this site with fics that have one or two chapters and haven't been updated in months, have been abandoned, etc. I get it. I hate reading a fic and then realizing the author has abandoned it and sometimes with no announcement. I GET IT.
> 
> But I cannot tell you how de-moralizing it is to get comments on my fics that I write in my free time, after work, for fun, as a way to keep my two favorite characters alive, that are "Update now" or "Is this abandoned" or "When are you updating". I get it, I appreciate the interest, but it sometimes kills my drive to write. I feel pressured and realize that that is NOT how I want to write a fic, trying to force an update for the sake of an update. 
> 
> So I'm glad you are interested in my fics and I'm glad you are reading and I appreciate it, I do, but perhaps think about how you write your comment asking for an update, because most of the time they come off as entitled and demanding. I've noticed this happening far more frequently in this fandom and on other fics posted here. So as a public service announcement, just think before you post a comment and think about its effect on the writer who is doing this for fun and may not be in a position in their life to work on an update at that moment. 
> 
> Thank you.

**Year 6- O.W.L.s**

“Why do you suppose your uncle doesn’t like me very much?”

The question came out of nowhere for Jon, although he guessed if he thought about it a bit more, it really had been building. It was almost August, they would surely be receiving their Hogwarts letters in a couple days’ time—if not that day—then it would be a whirlwind of getting supplies, packing trunks, and getting from Winterfell to King’s Cross to board the train. He was pretty sure Winterfell was closer to Hogwarts than to London, but nevertheless they all had to arrive by train.

Dany had gone to London, to the home she barely shared with her brother, just long enough to dump out her trunk of broken quills, empty inkpots, torn parchment, and too-small school uniforms, before she went off to tour with Drogo and visit Missandei and Grey in Essos. She’d arrived a couple of days ago to spend the rest of summer with him.

And in those couple days, Ned had been his usual polite self, but had been so distant from her. Not at all like how he was with Sansa’s friend from Hogwarts, another Ravenclaw she had invited, Jeyne Poole. There was a coolness about him, only with Dany.

Jon sighed, kicking at a pinecone as they wandered the Wolfswood. He couldn’t sleep, he hated having the tiniest room in the castle, since he could hear _everyone_ and that included Theon’s loud snoring from the room next door. He had gone for a run while in wolf form with Ghost, running into Dany who was out. It seemed she hadn’t been able to sleep either. They were making a morning of it before they went in for breakfast. “I don’t know,” he admitted. He dug his hands deeper into his pockets. “Maybe it’s a Targaryen thing.”

She ducked her head, eyes downcast, sad. “I didn’t know about your family.”

It was third year when she had learned that her father, who died before she was born, had been arrested by Aurors for using Dark magic. He was a Ministry official, probably would have been Minister of Magic, but had been sent to Azkaban for murdering Lord Rickard Stark and his son Brandon—Jon’s grandfather and uncle. No one knew why, it was all fuzzy and people seemed to just wander off when they mentioned Aerys Targaryen.

He felt like it was some sort of collective memory lapse, like how Frey had just skipped over an entire section of Wizarding history when it came to the time that Aerys had been in power. He never pressed it, because when he did, he felt that same fuzzy feeling as well. Not that he knew much about it anyway. It was so peculiar. “I don’t know if it’s all that, I mean, he likes you. He wouldn’t let you stay here if he didn’t.”

“I’m a Slytherin,” she mumbled, morose.

He laughed. “And so am I. His flesh and blood.”

“Do you not think that strange? I mean, your father’s blood must be powerful to put you in Slytherin House over Gryffindor.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her feet dragging in the dried brush. She snorted. “Then again, we were both hatstalls, so maybe not.”

“I haven’t thought much about it.” Slytherin had been a terrifying thing at the time, when the Sorting Hat screamed it out. He had been mortified, the _bastard_ of House Stark, no parents to speak of, and living off the pity of his family, and then he couldn’t even go into the same House as all Starks before him.

In a way he was grateful Sansa had been placed in Ravenclaw. She was the first trueborn Stark to have ever been placed in a House other than Stark. He didn’t count himself in there. It took the heat off of him, so to speak. She fit in well in Ravenclaw. Although to be honest, he had bene hoping beyond all hope she didn’t get Slytherin, because he really thought she’d end up there. She could be so calculating.

Dany glanced over her shoulder, a few steps ahead of him. “I think this year we should find out more about what I saw in the Pensieve. About the whole my brother has a son I don’t know about thing.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, if I have a family member I don’t know about.” She sighed hard, turning and walking backwards as they exited the Wolfswood. “Don’t you want to know about if your father made an Unbreakable Vow?”

That did spark curiosity. “I guess.” He just wondered what it would mean for him. He didn’t want to waste his time digging around in the past if it wouldn’t benefit him somehow. As self-serving as that was. There were other things to consider.

Dany turned, a brief smile on her lips, and hurried towards the house, Arya running from the kitchen, waving envelopes in her hands. “They’re here!” his little sister screamed, jumping in the air a few feet, ecstatic. “My letter is here!”

“And our O.W.L. results!” Dany yelped, grabbing her letter.

He paled, worried what might happen. He hadn’t told anyone, but he knew that in sixth year they had to start focusing on their career paths after Hogwarts. He wanted to become an Auror. Like his Uncle Benjen was and like how Ned had planned to be before he got stuck dealing with the estate and the Ministry. He wished he knew what his mother had done before she died, he could find nothing about her. Maybe Lyanna had wanted to be an Auror too. Although when Ser Barristan told him in second year about her Qudditich skills, perhaps she wanted to be a professional player. _Like Ned would ever tell me_ , he scoffed to himself, tearing into the thick parchment.

Robb burst out of the kitchens, his letter torn to pieces, blue eyes dancing in happiness. “Not bad, not bad at all! Couple Acceptables, but I was expecting those. Got Exceeds Expectations as well. Troll in History of Magic, but who would pass that one, you know?”

Dany went pink. “I guess her,” Jon teased, looking down at his results. His heart almost gave out in relief. He pulled his papers from Robb, who was trying to steal a peek, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden at his results. He nudged Dany. “What’d you get?”

“Fine.”

He took one look at her paper and yelped. “Seven hells! _Ten_ Outstandings!?” Even in History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts, her two worst subjects. Dany took three electives over his two, adding Ancient Runes and Arithmancy to Care of Magical Creatures, which she shared with him. He did his independent study in Transfiguration, which he did not have to take an O.W.L. for, so he only got eight.

“Shit Targaryen,” Robb commented, impressed. He crossed his arms over his chest, amused. “Guess we’re looking at the next Minister of Magic.” He grabbed Jon’s envelope before he could stop him, whooping. “Aegon’s Beard! You too! Didn’t know you had a brain in that pretty head of yours!”

He tried to grab the parchment back, but Arya snagged it from her older brother, laughing and running into the house, screaming. “Jon is a smarty-pants!”

Dany came up beside him, still smiling, clearly pleased with her results, as she should have been. “So how did you do?”

He sighed, trying not to smile. He was glad he beat Robb again. “Outstanding in all but Potions, and History of Magic. Got Exceeds Expectations in all those.”

“Damn, even Herbology you got Outstanding?”

“I know, right?” He had been surprised at that one. He guessed it was because Olenna Tyrell would have murdered them all in their beds with her pruning shears if her House students failed her subject. Slytherins always did well in her class because she made sure of it. He chuckled at hers. “You know Baelish is going to be pissed you passed Arithmancy?”

She made a face—Petyr Baelish was the worst teacher in all of Hogwarts, everyone knew he was just trying to get a position in the Ministry and then he’d be gone. “Oh forget him, it will all be fine, I don’t plan to continue with it at N.E.W.T. level. I’m going to drop it; we will need to spend more time studying this year.”

“That’s the worst part of it all.”

They went into the house, where everyone preened over their O.W.L. results, he was not surprised that despite his exceptional results, only Ned and Arya seemed impressed and proud, while Catelyn skated over it all and only focused on Robb. He really didn’t care; he knew he was always the outcast and he also knew that he was smarter. He had been trying his whole life to show up Robb and he had. He smiled darkly as he stabbed a fork into a pancake, lifting it up and taking a wolfish bite. He was not a Stark, the sooner he accepted it, the better he would be for it.

And he had found, oddly enough, as Catelyn made a fuss over Robb for his Acceptable results, ignoring Jon’s Outstandings, that he really, really didn’t care.

Dany certainly did, glowering over at his aunt, looking quite like the dragon she wished to be. “And what sort of career might you go for Robb?” she wondered, casually nibbling on a piece of apple, with her violet eyes focused instead on Catelyn, whose face was pursed into its normally perturbed fishy look when she realized she was being played.

The Ravenclaw of the bunch probably should have figured it out, but Sansa was otherwise occupied trying to get his two youngest cousins to stop fighting over who got the last chocolate-chip pancake. He saw Ned casually flick his wand towards the kitchen and a few more pancakes appeared suddenly on the plate. He chuckled, glancing towards Robb, who looked ready to slouch down under the table.

He smiled as Catelyn glared at Dany. “Robb will take over his father’s role as Lord of Winterfell and work for the Ministry.”

“Hmm, an admirable profession of course, but you know Melisandre only takes N.E.W.T. students at Exceeds Expectations and of course with an Acceptable Potions score, Professor Oberyn will no doubt ignore your application.” Dany made a ‘tsk’ sound and smiled towards him, an eyebrow arching. “But Jon…he is on track to become an Auror with scores like his.”

Ned looked up, smiling briefly. “An Auror?”

“Ah…I’ve thought of it.” He glared at Dany, who was casually eating her apple, smiling around the rather large bite she had just taken. He cleared his throat, wishing he had his wand, to fiddle with, even if it meant snowflakes would fall around them all, but it was upstairs in his room. He scowled at his so called ‘best friend’ who had started this nonsense. “And what about you Miss Outstanding?”

“Auror,” she chirped. She grinned, cocking her head. “Or perhaps I might try to advocate for better treatment of magical creatures. House elves and hippogriffs and of course dragons.” She sighed hard, rolling her eyes. “Maybe even I will try to become Minister of Magic, it is in my blood.” She glanced at Jon; her voice quiet. “As being an Auror is in yours, is it not?”

The sound Ned made startled him, even Catelyn leaned over to see if he was alright. His uncle looked pained; his face almost purple from choking on his glass of juice. He coughed, waving his hand. “I am quite fine, please.” He gazed at Dany; concern etched in his craggy features. “There is no one in our family who was an Auror, Daenerys, perhaps you are mistaken.”

“Your mother, Lyanna, was she not an Auror?” Dany clearly was poking at something. He glared at her again, his cheeks pink, and he stabbed his fork into another piece of pancake, a not-so-subtle warning to _knock it off._. She smiled briefly. “Maybe I am mistaken.”

“What House do you suppose I will be in?” Arya wondered, changing the subject, probably not on purpose, but Jon was going to gift her with as much Weasley Wizard Wheezes products as he could afford the next time, they visited Diagon Alley.

“Gryffindor, of course,” Robb said, grateful as well that the heat was off him for his poor O.W.L. results.

Sansa made a face. “I just hope it isn’t Ravenclaw.” She smirked. “I could see you in Hufflepuff. You certainly look like a badger.”

“Shut up!”

In the chaos of the fight that immediately followed, Jon grabbed hold of Arya while Robb snagged Sansa, but he saw Ned slip away, looking pained, holding a hand to his heart. He wondered what that was about, but had to focus on the fight, because Arya was a wily one and had managed to duck under his arm to grab hold of a sausage, pelting it at her older sister before laughing and taking off outside.

He gave up, letting them fight it out, while Dany sidled up next to him. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, walking towards the stairs with her. He led her up to his room, closing the door behind him. He went to his bed, flopping backwards on it. He closed his eyes, thinking of his uncle’s reaction to the news that Lyanna had been an Auror. It seemed as though that was yet another secret. He reached up to his neck, removing the locket.

A moment later he felt his bed sag slightly and another hand moved to the locket, thumbing at it. “It has to open,” she murmured.

He tried not to focus on the soft weight of Dany against him as she lay beside him, their heads on the pillow. He fiddled with the magically sealed clasp, shrugging. “I suppose we will never know what she hid inside of it” he murmured. He glanced sideways, his nose brushing over Dany’s.

They stared at each other for a brief moment; he was compelled to kiss her. They hadn’t spoken of their kiss in the forest, beginning of fifth year. Had it almost been a year now? _Gods, we are getting old_ , he thought. He would soon be seventeen. He would be considered an adult in the Wizarding World. The fun of that would be that he could Apparate and he could practice magic without care. He could leave the damn estate for good.

She cleared her throat, whispering. “I am still with Drogo.”

“Aye.”

It did not mean much to him; she was still dating a Qudditich player who was on tour and not with her that summer. She was with him instead. He leaned in, not caring, and lightly brushed his lips to hers. They barely had begun to deepen the kiss, her fingers reaching to tug on his t-shirt, when there was a crack that sounded like a thunderclap. He jumped backwards, reeling from the sound, and looked around his bed, yelping.

Dany cursed, jumping up and grabbed for her wand, immediately dousing the flames that had suddenly sparked up on the floor. She gaped, eyes wide, and he peered over, staring at the image that had burned into the floor.

_A dragon._

“Why does this happen?” she wondered, glancing towards him. She frowned, looking back at the dragon, cocking her head. “And what does it mean?”

Jon had no idea. He reached up to the locket, thumbing at it again.

It was burning hot.

~/~/~/~

**Year 6- Arya**

“Jon!”

He glanced up from cleaning his broomstick, Dany casually looking over as well, from where she was seated across from him, doing extra work on their Transfiguration essay. _Such a weird one, she is_ , he idly thought, setting the broomstick aside and peering around the edge of the armchair. “Aye?” he called.

One of the seventh-year prefects in Slytherin glared over at him, jerking a thumb towards the door towards the dungeon. “Your little wolf cub is wandering the corridor again, demanding entry.”

Dany chuckled, picking up her quill again. “Ah, I see your shadow is still trying to find a way to get in.”

“I better stop her before she brews Polyjuice Potion and pretends to be someone to get in here,” he grumbled, jumping to his feet. He hadn’t changed out of his school uniform, other than taking his robes and throwing them in his room after supper. He had to study, but instead of focusing on Potions or Charms, he decided to work on his broomstick. They had a match that weekend, he wanted to make sure his Thunderbolt was in pristine condition.

Term had only last two months and already he was wondering when Arya might go marching into Headmaster Aemon’s office and demand to take the Sorting Hat on again. He suspected she hadn’t really thought things through when she got off the little boats and reported to the Great Hall with the rest of the first years. He had ridden in the same compartment as her on the train, along with Dany, Missandei, Grey Worm, and his friend Sam.

“Why can’t I come with you?” she had demanded, when they got off the train.

He nodded towards Tormund, who was bringing all the first years over across the lake in boats. “You go with Tormund; he’ll take care of you. I’ll see you in the Great Hall. After the Sorting.”

“Oh.”

Then there had been the Sorting. Dany had a bet going with Theon that Arya would be sorted into Gryffindor faster than Robb had. The hat touched Robb’s hair for one full second before shouting his House. Theon said that it would last at least five seconds, because Arya was _a bit two-faced_ so it might consider her for Slytherin. Dany said that it would touch one hair, that was it, just one hair, and she would go to Gryffindor.

Jon knew not to get his hopes up. Sansa was the only true Stark to have ended up in another House besides Gryffindor—he didn’t really count of course. He sat at the end of the table, Dany beside him as usual, staring at the stool where it was hard to believe six years ago, he and Dany had been Hatstalls. The Sorting had been slow, rather boring actually, with quite a bit of Hufflepuffs. Some of the Slytherins were complaining that people were becoming too loyal and hard-headed for their own good, if they were all going to Hufflepuff and so far, only two had the ambition and guts to be in Slytherin.

Melisandre had called up Arya. Dany and Theon were both vibrating, waiting for the moment, timing it. Arya had winked at him, settling on the stool, and the hat fell…it touched a hair that had been standing on end from one of her braids and screamed Gryffindor. Dany had won, Theon had lost, irritated. Arya had scampered off to join Robb, who had been irritated with his little sister bothering him the whole time when he wanted to flirt with Talisa.

Then Arya hadn’t left him alone, constantly finding him in the halls, wanting to hang out with him on the weekends, mad she couldn’t come to Hogsmeade. She wanted to play Quidditch, she wanted to go hang out with Tormund and him, but he was studying. N.E.W.T levels were ridiculously hard, and he needed space.

She had befriended another Gryffindor, a third year named Gendry, both of them bonding over kind of being the odd ones out in Gryffindor, but beyond that he wasn’t sure if she had made any friends.

Jon walked over to the main entrance of the Slytherin dungeon, approaching the stone wall, which moved aside for him. He hopped out into the corridor, walking down it and then up the stairs to find Arya sitting at the top, head in her hands. “Hey,” he called.

“Jon!” She jumped to her feet, eager. “I was looking for you.”

“Arya, it’s long past time you should be in your common room.” He didn’t want her to get caught by a prefect or wandering professor. He marched her across the main foyer and to the staircases. He hadn’t a clue where the Gryffindor Tower entrance was, just that he knew Robb and them all went up a few flights before wandering off and finding their way to wherever they slept.

She scowled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her robes. “I don’t want to go up there! Gryffindors are _boring_! I want to hang out with you and Dany, why can’t I?”

“Because you’re not a Slytherin.”

“And you aren’t, not really,” Arya complained. She wandered off down a corridor, leading him to a hidden alcove, dust coating the floor. She leaned against one of the windows overlooking the bridge leading down to Tormund’s hut. She glanced over to him, whispering. “You said it yourself. You were a Hatstall. That means you aren’t really Slytherin.”

It had taken him some time to understand why the Hat had chosen Slytherin for him. He still wasn’t quite sure if there was something else to it. He had gone over what the Hat said in his head over and over again that first year. He sat beside her, gazing out the window, watching the swirling smoke from Tormund’s hut, as it glided out over the Forbidden Forest. He itched to turn, to go running through the wood with Ghost. Unfortunately, studying awaited. He glanced to his cousin; she was more a little sister to him than anyone in the Stark family.

She looked more like him than the others did. The only one with the gray eyes and almost black hair. All the others had Catelyn Stark’s auburn hair and blue eyes. He had to convince her once that she was not a _bastard_ and that she was in fact Ned Stark’s daughter, and his cousin, not his trueborn sister. “Arya, the Sorting Hat placed me in Slytherin, not Gryffindor, for a reason. Yeah, it took a really long time to decide, but it was the same with Dany. Would you think Dany would be in Gryffindor?”

“No,” Arya said immediately, rolling her eyes and snorting. “She would be annoyed with all the stuff that goes on in the common room.”

He chuckled. “And would I?” He wasn’t sure what all actually did go on in the Gryffindor common room, but he suspected given some of the antics that Robb and his crew got into, he probably would be annoyed more than entertained. Arya frowned, thinking on it for a moment. “See? The Sorting Hat picks qualities, but it doesn’t mean they’re good or bad.”

“But you’re not bad, and everyone knows Slytherins are bad.”

“We aren’t,” he said. He sighed hard. “Yeah, a lot of bad wizards and witches were in Slytherin, but maybe that’s because Slytherins are cunning and resourceful. Ambitious too. We’re good leaders because we think before we act and we’re good at…”

“Saving your own skin?” she smirked. She punched him lightly, chuckling. “I remember once you and Robb got in trouble for sneaking into the crypts. You got yourself out of it, but Robb took the blame.”

“Gryffindors tend to just react.” He lightly knocked her shoulder, chuckling. “Just like you.”

She drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them, whispering. “I always thought we would be in the same House. Like at home. I never thought that we wouldn’t be able to be here together at the same time.” She frowned. “I guess I never thought you were a Slytherin, but…you do seem like…” She cocked her head, narrowing her eyes. “Like Dany sometimes.”

“Maybe because we hang out too much together.” _Or because we basically can be the same person, depending on the time of day. Or because I’m in love with her._ He didn’t say anything about that to Arya; she couldn’t be trusted with the information of course. He hung his head slightly, whispering. “I always wanted to be something, Arya. You know that. You saw how it was with your mother. Even with Ned.” He arched a brow. “And you’ll see next year, but the Sorting Hat always talks about the qualities of each House and every single year it says the same things about Slytherins. Ambitious. I guess that’s me.”

“I just never thought of it like that.”

“Me either.” He shrugged. “But I was close enough to Gryffindor for the House to think of putting me there too.” _Except something tilted it over the edge._ He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair, glancing out to see the stars were filling the sky, the moon brighter and higher in the sky. He nudged her with his foot. “You have to get to your room. Can’t have a first year caught out after hours. You don’t want Detention. I hear Professor Selmy can be a total hard-ass.”

“He’s a softie.”

He stood, hoping that whatever he had said had provided her with enough comfort or reassurance. He felt bad; she was homesick, missed her friends and family…Starks were all about family. He suspected she didn’t miss Sansa, but maybe things would be different when Bran and Rickon came to school. He would have to talk to Robb about paying a bit more attention to her. He ruffled her hair, sending the knotty mess askew. She smacked at his hand, glaring at him. “Ooh, I challenged a Gryffindor, now what will happen to me?” he teased.

“I’ll curse you.”

“Hmm, like to see you try. I did get Outstanding in Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

She scowled, crossing her arms over her chest and trudging out from the hidden alcove, towards a spiral staircase entrance. She glanced sideways. “When do you learn about Polyjuice Potion?”

 _Well that didn’t last long._ “Technically you learn about it in third year, but you don’t make it in Hogwarts and you only see it in sixth.” He shrugged. “Unless Professor Oberyn is feeling like he wants to break the rules and actually transforms in front of you. Just be glad he doesn’t test a poison on you and then claim he _forgot_ how to brew the antidote.” That had not been a fun moment for Joffrey Baratheon, he’d heard, having not been there since Joffrey was only a third year.

They stood silently for a bit longer; he didn’t want to leave her until she was ready to go back to the Gryffindor Tower. She fussed a bit with the hem of her robes, shifting her feet. She looked up at him, whispering. “Promise you’ll at least play Quidditch with me this weekend? When you and Dany aren’t sneaking off to make out?”

He felt warmth in his cheeks. “I do not make out with Dany! We’re not…not like that.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I live with you Jon. You two disappearing off to your bedroom at the time. I think my mom put some sort of surveillance detection spell thing on it though, don’t think Dany would have been able to stay there after a certain hour.” He rolled his eyes, as he was certain of it too. She narrowed her gray eyes onto his, now curious. “Well if you weren’t making out, what were you doing?”

They were trying to figure out how to hatch her dragon egg, but he wasn’t going to tell _that_ to Arya. He turned her by her shoulders, pushing her towards the stairs. “None of your business.”

“Everything is my business.”

 _Spoken like a true Gryffindor._ He kept his mouth closed, as he was far better skilled in self-preservation. He hugged her tight and watched her ascend the staircase, hoping she got where she needed to go. He definitely had to talk to Robb. He turned, heading back down to the dungeons.

The Slytherin common room was quiet, just the low hum of students working on homework, playing chess, or whatever it is some of them did. He spied Joffrey Baratheon with his little group of minions, wishing he could hex the annoying brat without getting detention. Not that Professor Tyrell would care; she _hated_ Joffrey. It was that he was the son of the Minister of Magic, Robert Baratheon. No one could touch him.

He joined Dany in their corner, sitting on the floor next to Ghost. “How is she?” Dany asked, sitting up on the couch. “Feeling better?”

“I think so. She doesn’t think I should be in Slytherin.”

“I know, you’re far too stupid.”

He threw a bit of parchment balled up at her face, laughing. “Shut up.”

She grinned, sliding off the couch beside him, her knee lifting slightly and arm draping over it. She picked up her wand, fiddling with it. Little red sparks began to fall around them. He picked up his, flicking it, and allowed the snow to fall as well. Their little cocoon, he liked to think. It was comforting for them both. She twisted her wand in her hand, gripping the dragon bone handle, whispering. “I wonder what would have happened if I had been placed in Gryffindor…if things would be different. If I would know more or have thought to search more for…for answers to my family. To Rhaegar and to my egg.”

“You’ll get them, being in one House or the other doesn’t change it.” He went over what the Hat said to him, shaking his head softly. “The Hat simply told me that I could do both. It said that I was _another wolf_ but there was something else it couldn’t figure…said that it had never made a mistake, it would pick the right place, it just needed a moment. Then said… _ah, that’s what that is, ancient magic on both sides, I know what to do_ and then it said a few things about my need to prove myself and figuring out how to protect others and myself, before shouting Slytherin.”

The only thing he really had focused on was the _ancient magic on two sides._ Dany frowned, twisting her wand to increase the intensity of the red sparks, whispering. “Ancient magic on two sides? Do you think it was talking about your father?”

“It has to, obviously everyone knows my mother was Lyanna Stark.”

“Maybe not everyone, but yeah…” She squinted. “What exactly did it say?”

“Said that the gods could flip a coin, but I had ancient magic on either side. That’s all.” He thought the coin thing was weird, but it as the Sorting Hat. Thing had been living on a shelf for like a thousand years. He set his wand down, the snow stopping. He picked up his quill; he really did have to get back to studying. “Doesn’t matter anymore. I’m here, been here for six years now. Come on, we’ve got studying.”

“I just hope Arya will be alright.”

He had no doubt Arya would be fine. He pulled a book towards him, beginning to copy something about disappearing charms. He wondered what the Hat had said to Dany, but she didn’t speak. She was still aimless, not studying, her mind clearly elsewhere. He swallowed hard and picked up another book, tossing it to her. “Come on, let’s finish this.”

They said nothing more of their joint Hatstall, returning to the mountains of homework.

~/~/~/~

**Year 6- Drogon**

Headmaster Aemon gave her special dispensation to leave school to journey to Essos for Drogo's funeral. She had received the news from Missandei, who had come running over, saying Grey Worm just read it in the Daily Prophet, did she know?

_Know what?_

Drogo had fallen off his broomstick, which was unheard of, and he hadn't been carrying his wand for some reason. It had been during a training session, rather secretive, with some of the other Dothrak Screamers, none of whom were speaking with the Magical law Enforcement team that had gone to investigate the death. They determined it was a freak accident, but she wasn't so sure. How could not one of them have cushioned the fall or slowed the descent?

It didn't matter, she supposed. You couldn't bring people back from the dead. it was one of the only parts of magic she hated, despised even, and you might have their memory live on in moving photographs or visit the times of them in a Pensieve, but that was all you would ever have. She wished she could have said goodbye, but the last thing she had said to Drogo had been an owl saying she wasn't sure if they should keep up their long-distance romance. It was too far, too long of times between seeing each other, and perhaps they should simply remain friends.

She apologized to him, before she returned to Hogwarts. As was custom in Dothraki tradition, they burned his body and his spirit returned to the stars. She brought her dragon egg with her, hiding it in her robes and her case with Disillusionment Charms. She wasn't sure why, she just felt a connection to the egg, wanting it to be near when she said goodbye to the first boyfriend she'd ever had. Drogo had been her first kiss, her first bit of everything... _but not really._

It was like blinders had come off. She'd gone to the funeral and returned, with a different view of the world. Death had not been new to her; she had experienced it in some of the worst possible ways. She'd lost her parents, her brother—although that was still a big mystery—lost even her caregivers as a girl. The funeral had gone on as it should have. Drogo didn't have family, so it was his teammates and some other Dothraki.

They left and she...well...she wasn't sure what possessed her. She had a feeling, she suspected even. She set the egg in his pyre, against his body, and watched carefully.

She returned to Hogwarts with a clearer eyed view of what she wanted. She wanted to stop darkness and evil; because she had felt it when she kissed Drogo goodbye, lying on that pyre, at the dark look of his former teammate Moro and Pono. They had killed him, she suspected, although she said nothing. For some stupid thing no doubt. Glory and fame.

And she returned.

Just not alone.

It had been difficult, but she managed to make it, flying on a broomstick from London, where she had been allowed a Portkey from the Ministry to Essos. She hurried along, carefully moving her bag at her hip, her letter sent ahead telling Jon that he had to meet her in the Room of Requirement. She did not stop at her room, racing across the hall, skipping supper and checking in with Professor Tyrell, ignoring Ser Jorah who wanted to discuss her last essay with her.

She skidded to a stop in front of the stretch of wall, hissing for Jon. He appeared behind the corner, hands in his pockets, frowning at her. "What's going on? How are you doing?" He had been concerned of course for her after Drogo died. He comforted her while she cried, offered to go with her to Vaes Dothrak, but unfortunately, he couldn't get the permission to leave. She was grateful to him, he was her best friend. Which was why she couldn’t' keep this secret from him.

She urged him towards her, standing in front of the wall. _I need a place..._ She thought frantically, thinking of what she might need for _him._ She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths.

The wall opened up a door, which she grabbed, pushing into, Jon after her. He closed it and frowned at what she'd requested. It was like a little nursery, there were strange cages, the floor and walls almost padded in an odd material. It was _hot_ , with fires everywhere, and she was grateful to see that there were books piled in shelves, protected by some sort of screen. There was also a plate of raw meat.

"Dany," Jon began.

She opened her bag, reaching in, cooing to her baby. "It's alright sweetness, Mama is here."

"Mama?"

The little dragon, now the size of a small cat, hopped out and into her arms, nuzzling against her arm. He chirped, turning his little head to face Jon. He was so _adorable_. Black scales that shimmered red in certain light, little gold eyes staring straight at her. He had sharp teeth, but she wasn't quite sure what he ate. Meat, she judged, but he ignored everything she pushed to him. He was likely hungry. He chirped again, pushing at her breast. "This is Drogon," she murmured.

She knew he had questions. She carried her baby over to a pedestal in the center of the room, resting him upon it. Drogon dug his little feet and the claws at the end of his wings into the nest that was there, tearing at it, turning and settling into it. He opened his mouth, screeching a little louder. "Shh!" she hissed. she finally looked up at Jon, who was just staring at her, stunned. She gestured to the plates of meat. "Get one of those. He needs to eat."

"Dany." Jon did not move. He pointed. "That is a dragon."

Sometimes Jon could be far too obvious for his own good. She rolled her eyes, relatively amused by his awe. Or, well…she thought it was awe. "I know he's a dragon.” She tickled under her darling’s chin. “Isn't he _gorgeous_? He's so sweet too."

"Sweet!?"

Now it was her turn to hiss to him for making too much noise. " _Shh!_ Someone might hear you." She prodded some of the raw meat at Drogon, who sniffed, but didn't touch it. She sighed. "Come on baby, you need to eat." He squeaked, fluttering his wings, trying to claw from her arms.

"Dany!" Jon stormed towards her; gray eyes wide. "What are you doing? You can't keep a baby dragon here! We have to figure out what to do with him. Also... _how_?" He leaned against her, his hand going around her wrist, tugging her closer. He softened, sympathetic. "How did you do this? The egg was just stone."

"I don't know, honestly. I just sort of did." She explained it to him as best she could. The dreams she'd had of the fires, of walking into them. The pull she felt to put her egg on Drogon's pyre. She named the dragon after him, because he helped with the dragon's return to the world. She wasn't sure what to do with him now. Dragons were mostly extinct, they were confined to wild forests of Romania, under strict control and guard from Dragonkeepers. They were beautiful creatures, but volatile and angry. They were not slaves, she thought darkly, and witches and wizards had turned them into such.

There was no way he was going to some horrible cage in Romania. She would _die._ She was the blood of the dragon, of Old Valyria, and she was going to fly this dragon one day. She looked over at him, knowing he understood. He was just concerned for her security there at the school. As she was with his, if someone found out about his illegal Animagus status.

Except this was the first dragon in centuries to be born from a petrified egg. The first Targaryen since her ancestors to hold a hatchling in their arms. She wasn’t sure what that meant compared to if it had happened to anyone else, but she sensed the difference. This dragon would respond to her in a way the others didn’t to the other wizards. She reached for another piece of meat, nudging it towards him, but the little dear would not eat, moving his head away.

She mumbled, trying to open his jaw. “You can stay here, or you can leave, but you aren’t changing my mind.”

“Gods help me I know.” Jon appeared amused, even if still frustrated. He turned away from the pedestal, snapping his fingers and scanning the books piled along the shelves. He mumbled. “There has to be something here. What exactly did you wish the room to become?”

“Um…a place where I could learn about him, how to take care of him, and something to feed him, but he isn’t eating.” She dropped another piece of meat, tears prickign her eyes. “What kind of a mother am I if I cannot feed him?”

“A human one?”

“Shut up.”

He picked up a few books, frowning at them, shaking his head. “These are Valyrian. Valyrian dictionaries…why would we need those?”

 _Valyrian…_ Her eyes widened, realization awning. “Oh! Valyrian! They are ancient creatures of Old Valyria! That is the language that he understands…um…” She closed her eyes, thinking in Valyrian. It was her mother tongue, a language she somehow had known since birth. The language of the Targaryens. She looked at the meat in her hands, staring at it and then at Drogon, who was opening and closing his jaw.

_Fire…_

Jon opened up another book, scanning through it, shaking his head, sighing. “I don’t understand any of this.”

She held the meat in her fingers, Drogon cradled in her elbow. She glanced at him and then to the meat again. It hit her. Smacked her straight upside the head. “ _Dracarys_ ,” she murmured. _Fire._

Drogon coughed, a bit of smoke emanating from his throat. He did it again, at another urging, and this time the smoke was more of a stream, hot enough to warm even her fingers, and cook the meat. He cooed happily and snapped at it, swallowing the piece whole. He let out a happy sound, crawling up to her shoulders and spreading his wings, screeching again.

She giggled, reaching for him, nuzzling his soft little nose. “Oh baby! You did it!”

“ _Dracarys_ ,” Jon repeated. Drogon blew out another stream of smoke, a few sparks coughing loose, except it wasn’t the fact that he listened to Jon that caused her eyes to widen in surprise. She gripped her dragon, her gaze focused on Jon. He blinked. “What? I can’t speak Valyrian, but I can copy you.”

She pointed, stunned. It wasn’t that; although she did like hearing Valyrian from his lips. It was the locket, the one he always kept around his neck. The one that formed the silver spot on his neck when he shifted into Animagi form. They had never been able to open it, not with any known spell or charm. It was sealed forever.

Or it _was_ sealed.

He glacned down, following her finger. He touched the locket, his mouth forming an open ‘o’ of surprise. He yanked it off, staring at the silver. It was shining, she could see from the distance. “Is it…warm?” It looked warm to her; she approached, cradling DRogon like a newborn babe, his eyes closed as he nuzzled her while he slept. She reached to touch it, and sure enough, it released a comfortable heat to her.

There was something inside of it, shining up.

Jon didn’t move to touch it. She supposed that made sense; he had been holding onto it for years now, suspected it belonged to his mother and now…now it was open. With a Valyrian word, used only for dragons. _Why?_ She touched it lightly again, guiding the tiny hinge and pressing it open in his palm.

He gasped, looking at the tiny moving image. “What…” he trailed off, frowning. “I don’t…”

“Oh Jon.”

It took a moment to register, but it was… _him._ Her brother, smiling up and laughing in the tiny picture, silver hair shining and eyes twinkling. He was young, wearing Hogwarts robes, a broomstick in his hand. He caught her attention and laughed, waving up at her.

“Rhaegar,” she whispered.

Jon blinked, unsure at what he was seeing. She wondered if he could even see it, or if it was like the photo in the trophy room. He furrowed his brow. “Why does my mom have a photo of your brother in her locket?”

“And it uses the word for dragonfire to open?” she further questioned. Nothing seemed to make sense. She leaned against his shoulder, staring at her brother. He seemed so _happy_. So very young and carefree. Her finger reached to touch the picture, protected behind the tiny glass screen. She lifted her face up to Jon, who was gazing upon her. “Jon…I think your mother and my brother knew each other…maybe they were sweethearts.”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he whispered. He was frustrated; she could feel it wafting off of him. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

“I think we need to talk to my uncle.”

He nodded, continuing to say nothing. He kept looking at the picture, until he closed the locket, reaching to tuck it back under the collar of his shirt. He paused for a moment, face vacant, and suddenly, when she was about to ask if he was alright, if he needed a moment, he blinked, returning to the room. “Come on, we need to feed your baby and figure out where we’re going to put him. He can’t stay in the dungeons.”

She blew out a hard breath through her nostrils. “I was thinking Tormund might be able to watch him.”

“We can sneak down there after he eats. Or else he might eat Tormund.”

They said nothing, focusing on feeding the dragon, and then sneaked him to Tormund. It was quite a strange thing to let someone else know about Drogon, but thankfully the wildling was all for keeping a dragon, provided it didn’t burn down his house. She suspected that that might happen one day, but hopefully by the time she left Hogwarts, he wouldn’t be _that_ big.

She returned to the common room, Jon with her. They stopped, outside the main door, exchanging a look. There was something else, something neither of them was acknowledging. She swallowed hard, thinking of her Patronus; it hadn’t changed. If anything the wolf had shifted from merely a wolf to a white one with shining eyes, she believed would have been red if the Patronus wasn’t silver. She loved him.

And she knew he loved her.

The door opened, Theon jumping down into the corridor. “What are you two doing there? Robb and I are sneaking to the kitchens. Want anything?” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer before running off.

She wondered how they communicated with each other being in two different Houses, but it didn’t matter. She reached for Jon’s hand, squeezing hard. “Whatever…whatever my uncle says. Whatever ends up happening…we’ll be friends, yeah?”

He nodded. And to her surprise, he leaned in, and lightly kissed her. She drew back, startled. He smiled briefly, and let go of her, climbing up through the entrance and into the common room. She waited in the hall, eyes closing. She wondered if he was thinking the same thing, or if he even cared.

Because she wasn’t sure if she did.

She climbed up in after and walked through the room, straight to her bed, collapsing upon it. Tomorrow she’d speak with her uncle, send a message via Melisandre, after their Transfiguration lesson.

Then again…she didn’t want things to change. She pulled a blanket over her head, closing her eyes and hiding under it. She didn’t want to know.

Because she didn’t want things to be different.

But it seemed like they already were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: Year 7 brings Jon's 17th nameday, Dany becomes a Legilimens, and graduation from Hogwarts, it all comes to a head.


	5. year 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon marks, namedays, mind-reading, and graduation...plus some answers and some remaining mysteries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was just a fun little ditty I wrote of Jon and Dany as smol babies at Hogwarts and became something else entirely, of course. Glad you enjoyed. I don't have plans to return to this universe, but you never know.
> 
> I don't know if everyone will like this, but I don't care anymore. I'm not changing it and I'm happy with it. 
> 
> Enjoy the end of Hogwarts!Jonerys here.

**7- Dragon Marks**

This year we will get answers.

Dany vowed this, staring down at the letter she received from Hogwarts, sent of course to the Starks, because she was once again staying there that summer. She was curled up in her little nest she'd created out in the Wolfswood, with Drogon hopping around her, sniffing at piles of leaves and blowing them into ash, tittering and flapping about. She studied the list of textbooks-- so many for their final year-- wondering exactly how heavy her trunk was going to be with all of them.

There was also an addendum, saying that now that they were in their final year at Hogwarts, they were to do more independent study, focusing in on their interests for future career prospects. She had decided she was going to become an Auror, which meant far more Defense Against the Dark Arts training. She folded everything up, tucking it into her bag, and looked up at the rustling of leaves. "Come on out Jon," she called.

His wolf form appeared, before shifting to human. "Hey Drogon," he said, scratching her dragon under his chin, the beast now the size of a small dog, flapping his wings in excitement at seeing his second favorite person. He chuckled. "You know, he's kind of like an odd dog. Then he reminds you he is definitely not." As if to spite Jon, Drogon blew out a bit of fire towards his trainers. Jon kicked out the fire, scratching him again and reaching for some of the meat that Dany had brought from the house, throwing it to him. Drogon caught it with a fireball and swallowed it whole, before he flapped his wings again, trying to lift higher from the ground.

She clicked her tongue, reaching for him. "No, not yet." She rapped her wand atop his head, muttering. A moment later, all she could see was a strange outline of her dragon, blending in with the brush. "Go on, you don’t have long." The Disillusionment would wear off sooner rather than later and he knew it. Drogon chirped and took off, flapping wings and taking off to the sky.

Jon collapsed beside her. The small shed where she'd basically moved a lot of her things and where they'd gone to spend some of their time alone—keeping Drogon hidden as well as allowing him to shift without worry Ned would see— was far into the Wolfswood, with enough supplies and things to keep them from sneaking into the kitchens. She stretched her feet out in front of her, glancing at the locket around his neck. "Answers, this year Jon," she announced.

He glanced up, but said nothing, reaching for a Chocolate Frog box in the pile of sweets beside her. He opened it up, snatching the frog before it could escape and checked his card. He snorted. "Aegon the Conqueror. I've already got him."

"Didn't know you collected." She took the card, turning it over a few times, studying her stern ancestor. She ran her thumb over the back, reading the shrot little biography. She frowned, staring at the bottom line. _To this day, hundreds of years after Aegon's reign, wizards are mystified at the old magic that emerges when Targaryens come into contact with each other, some saying it is Aegon himself marking them as his descendants._

_A mark...dragon...fire burning..._

"Jon."

"Hmm?"

She dropped the card and spun towards him, grabbing for his face with both hands, not even thinking. It was a hunch maybe. Or maybe she just wanted to do it. _Who knew, really?_ They were best friends and it had been building to this point for a long time. She crashed her lips to his, surprised at his sudden grip around her, mouth opening immediately beneath hers. She groaned, immediately pushing him onto the ground, legs straddling his hips and her hands tight on his shoulders, disappearing into the strange sensation of Jon's arms around her and his lips on hers, kissing her as if they had nothing else to live for but each other.

_Gods_ , she thought, even though she wasn't sure she believed in any gods. She felt _so good._ He pushed her up slightly, arm around hers, before pushing her onto her back, allowing him greater access to her mouth and then to her neck as he kissed along the line of it. "Jon," she gasped, eyes rolling into her head, trying to focus. _Except I can't._

The ground felt like it was shaking. She could hardly breath; fire was smothering her. She pulled his face back, fingers curling into his hair, kissing him. He was an absolutely divine kisser; she should have known. Except she hadn't really thought of him that way. This was her _best friend._

_Best friend._

_I’m Jon._

_I’m Dany._

They separated, if only for the need to breathe. She realized that they were warm, it felt like they were in a glow of fire. She peered up into his eyes, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to know anymore,” she admitted. She knew it in her heart, if she were to admit it out loud…she blinked through tears. “About my brother and…and the dragon marks when we fight and…” She let the words trail off.

Because if he really was her…she couldn’t think about it. She took a deep breath, holding it, as he seemed to think. He pushed her hair from her forehead, hovering over her. They had been together for almost seven years now. Since that first moment they met. Since their Hatstall. She whispered, everything becoming clear. “I sat on the stool and the Hat on my head…and it said something I didn’t think of until recently. It said that there was two in one night…I thought it meant the Hatstall, that it had to figure two different Houses that were hard to pick, but…I think it meant something else.”

He nodded, his nose brushing hers again. “Dany…I know.”

“But that means you’re…”

“Shh,” he breathed, kissing her lightly. He shook his head, eyes still closed for a moment. She held him tighter. If anything it felt like the heat only intensified around them. He blew out the breath in his chest, gazing out and then to her again. “Dany I don’t care.”

“Even if…”

He silenced her with a kiss. She held on, refusing to let go, sighing and smiling. Until they eventually separated, coming up to their feet, knowing they had to get back to the castle or someone would come looking for them. She held his hand tight. _What did this mean now?_ She glanced sideways to him. “What about your uncle? He’s keeping this from you.”

“He has his reasons, I’m sure,” he whispered. He frowned, looking at their hands and then to the ground.

There was a dragon burned into the ground, the smoke still wafting up from the dirt. She gazed around, but nothing else seemed to be on fire. They eventually separated, walking back towards the house; Drogon knew to fly into his enclosure when he returned from wherever he was flying.

They emerged from the wood, Robb flying on his broomstick towards them, Talisa with him. “Father was looking for you,” he called.

“What did he want?” Jon asked, stiffening, likely worried.

“Dunno. I think he’s looking for someone to help him find Arya. He’s pretty sure she’s brewing Polyjuice Potion in her room.”

Jon cursed under his breath. He glanced at her, silently asking if she would be okay. She giggled. “Go.” She squeezed his hand lightly, nodding towards the castle. “Find Arya. Before I see another one of you walking around.”

“Gods.”

She let go, shoving her hands into her pockets. She watched him walk off, thinking about the dragon mark. About what it meant. About everything.

And she agreed with him.

They knew, in their hearts they knew, but they would say nothing of it. Maybe Ned knew. _Of course he knew, he had to know._ Aemon too, judging from the Pensieve memories she had seen that one time.

“Damn you Rhaegar,” she murmured, closing her eyes briefly. She still wasn’t sure why he had decided to erase himself from living memory, but for whatever reason, it meant Jon’s parentage was secret from the world.

Although everything made sense now.

“Dany!”

She glanced up, Arya running towards her. She jogged to her. “Your father is looking for you. He thinks you’re brewing Polyjuice Potion.”

“Uh, yeah that’s not why he’s looking for me.” The young girl looked sheepish. “I may have let off a bunch of Dungbombs in Sansa’s bedroom. Mom is trying to get her to drink a Calming Draft.”

Dany barely looked at the castle, knowing that this was not something even Jon could save Arya from. She winced, an arm going around the young girl and guided her to the Wolfswood. “Come on, I’ll help you hide.”

“Score. Taking me to where you and Jon make out because you’re both all in loooooove?”

She scowled. “Don’t push it, I don’t have to help you.”

Arya chuckled, waving her hand. “Fine. Maybe you can teach me how to Disillusion myself. I’m fascinated in how to cloak yourself magically.”

“So you can sneak into Sansa’s room and set off Dungbombs?”

“No comment.”

~/~/~/~

**7- Name Day**

It was his nameday.

Jon didn't really think of it until he opened his eyes, staring up at the stone ceiling of his dorm room. He sat up, pushing the thick green covers off his bed, stretching and coming to his feet. He blinked, surprised, at the small pile of gifts that were at the foot of his bed. He picked up one, staring at his uncle's handwriting. _Happy Nameday Jon, today in the Wizarding World, you are of age, and I hope this will find you your way._

He set the box down and hurriedly dressed, tugging on a pair of boots as he stumbled from his room. He ignored some of the other Slytherins who shouted at him that now he could Apparate, lucky arse, and found Dany seated in their corner. She grinned, throwing her arms out, and he jumped at the sound of cracks and explosions, little fireworks exploding from her movement. "Happy Name Day!"

"Wow," he laughed, as she conjured up two party hats for them. He set the few gifts he had on their table, but she immediately swept them up. He frowned. "What's that for?"

"We're going to celebrate and not in this dreary dungeon." It was still early morning, so not many were awake yet. She hoisted her bag on her shoulder, grabbing his hand and leading him from the dungeons. He wondered if Robb even remembered it was his name day, probably not. Arya and Sansa surely would. He would celebrate with his siblings later, right now he wondered what Dany was up to.

They ran up towards what he realized was the Room of Requirement. He chuckled, wondering what she did have planned. He waited, as she thought for a moment in front of the room and then opened the door, rushing inside. He closed the door, surprised to find that there was a lock on the other side. _Weird._ He locked the door, although he wasn't sure exactly why they needed a lock.

He turned back around, and his eyes widened, seeing Dany standing awkwardly in the center of the room, fidgeting with her hands. He looked around. There was a fire crackling in a grate; it was pretty small, kind of even reminded him of his room back in Winterfell. There was a table, which she'd placed her bag on, and a window that looked out at what he realized was the Wolfswood. _How funny, the Room can even conjure images of a place nowhere nearby._ He glanced to the corner and his heart stopped.

_A bed._

"I wasn't really specific," she blurted out. She swallowed hard. "I just wanted a place where we could be alone, where no one could catch us, and where...where I thought we could be...comfortable." She rummaged in the bag, removing some things. The presents and then what he realized was breakfast, even a cake. She swept her wand over the top of the cake, a candle appearing and tapped it, the icing moving into words.

He smiled, seeing a wolf running on the icing and then howling. He took a deep breath and blew out the candle, setting the cake down. "It's great. Thank you."

"Open your presents first."

They sat down on a bunch of pillows in front of the fire and he opened up the one from his uncle, lifting the lid. "It's a compass," he mumbled, surprised. He looked at the note. _find your way._ The gold was tarnished slightly and had the Stark sigil on the front. He lifted it up and stared at the spinning dial. He wasn't sure what it was supposed to lead him towards. Unless it was just a family heirloom. He looked at the inside cover, staring at the engraving.

_For my Lyanna, may this help you find your way, my wandering wolf._

"Oh," Dany whispered. "It belonged to your mother."

He smiled, comforted slightly by that, and looked at the spinning dials. They suddenly stopped, each one pointed straight at Dany. He wasn't sure what that meant, so he closed it and set it down. The few gifts from his siblings had appeared, they were a book on Qudditich from Robb, sweets from Arya, and a bag with a wolf embroidered on it from Sansa. He frowned at a smaller box appearing under the bag. "What's this," he mumbled.

He picked up the box and pushed it open. A small card fell out. Dany picked it up, reading aloud. "This belonged to your father, he left it in my possession before he died, it is time it was returned to you."

The velvet cloth covering the item fell away. "It's a watch," he exclaimed. It was custom for male wizards to receive a watch on their seventeenth birthdays, when they officially came of age. He ran his thumb over the silver band, scratches along it. The watch had multiple hands and stars that ran along where numbers were supposed to be. It had a slight dent in the side and on the face was a three-headed dragon. He took a deep breath, lifting his face to Dany's smiling one. "I guess we know for sure, huh?"

"Yeah," she murmured. She took the watch when he offered it to her, studying it. She frowned. "There's a clasp here."

He reached for his mother's locket, looking at it. " _Dracarys_ ," he whispered. It opened, the image of Rhaegar appearing, forever young inside of it.

Dany looked at the watch, whispering. " _Dracarys_."

The back of it popped open. He took it from her and turned it, staring at the little photo that was wedged against the watch's whirring gears. He blinked hard, the photo of his mother shining up at him, laughing and her dark hair spinning about her shoulders. He carefully loosened it and placed it in the locket, on the other side of Rhaegar. Both of the images exclaimed happily, and ran into each other's frames, embracing.

He heard a sniff, lifting his face to see Dany, who was crying. "It's alright," he murmured. He smiled at his parents, who were practically crying themselves, reunited. He supposed it made sense, on his nameday, when seventeen years ago his mother had died. When everything had changed. "They're happy, even in a photo." He closed the locket, carefully placing it in the box with his watch. Lyanna's compass went on top.

Dany moved closer to him, whispering. "I was scared, after we…” She trailed off. He knew what she meant, knew what neither of them had said out loud, but understood in their hearts. About his true father. She cleared her throat nervously. “After we figured it out...obviously there's more to worry about...but..." She took a deep breath, ducking her head. "I was scared because I didn't think you would still want me. Still love me."

It was probably wrong of him, but he did. He knew they shouldn't care about what others thought. He nodded. "I love you."

"Good," she murmured. She moved closer to him and he realized that she was shrugging off her cardigan. "Because...because I have a gift for you too." _Oh gods,_ he thought, mouth falling open slightly as she pulled herself into his lap. His arms went around her immediately. He saw her eyes shining. "And I was really hoping you would be okay with it...and wouldn't push me away...think this was wrong."

"I should," he admitted. He saw her face fall slightly. He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. "But gods help me, I don't."

"No one has to know," she murmured, lips brushing his. "Just us."

He nodded again, mouth gasping open as she kissed him again. They fell together, unable to stop. He was grateful the Room had provided the soft carpets and pillows, which cushioned them as they embraced. He could feel the stone warming beneath them. He wondered if it was the dragon, was actually curious to know what would happen if they...if they...he could not even think, not with Dany in his arms.

She broke the kiss, just long enough to reach for her wand. "I want to show you something," she breathed, forcing herself up, but remained seated against him.

He leaned back on his elbows, arching his brows. "Honestly Dany, you were kind of showing me something just now."

She smirked. "No, this is different." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, lifting her wand and flicked it. " _Expecto Patronum!_ "

The silver blasted out of the tip of her wand and he stared, in awe, as the Patronus loped around the room, a white wolf bounding and pausing to howl before disappearing out the window. _Oh wow..._ He gaped at her. She chewed her lower lip, somewhat nervous. She shrugged, whispering. "It hasn’t' changed. Not since fifth year, when it happened."

Guess it was his turn. He scrambled for his wand, sitting to the side, tossed there when they'd begun kissing. He lifted it up, eyes focused on hers, and whispered the incantation. The dragon escaped his wand, flapping large sinuous wings and blowing out silver fire, just smoke in its protective form. It beat its wings, swirling around her, much like Drogon did, and then faded out the window as the wolf had a moment before.

They stared at each other for a long moment, realization dawning. The magic was there, it was in their hearts and in their blood. It had been since the moment they met, standing in line waiting to be Sorted. It had built over time and despite everything, was still building, and strengthening their bond. She reached for his hand, threading their fingers together, whispering. "You and Ygritte, did you ever..." she trailed off, biting her bottom lip.

He shook his head. "No. Almost, but...no." He hesitated. "Drogo..."

"No."

They stared at each other another moment before he couldn't take it. He kissed her, reaching and drawing her close to him, fingers diving through her silver braids, a waterfall over his hands. He knew there was no going back now.

Not that there really ever was.

She murmured against his lips, smiling. "Happy nameday."

He chuckled. "Best present ever I'd say."

She giggled, climbing off him and tugging him towards the bed in the corner.

~/~/~/~

**Year 7- Legilimens**

" _Legilimens_ ," Dany barely breathed, her eyes focused on a first year Slytherin who was trying to swipe a peek at another girl's homework at the breakfast table, clearly attempting to cheat because she had not done her work the night before. She closed her eyes as she saw through the first-year’s mind. The layers and layers, focusing on it, and sure enough, there she was, goofing around trying to torment another, a Ravenclaw boy, the evening before and hadn't done her homework.

_Tsk, tsk_ , she thought, sending a brief image of Melisandre issuing detention for cheating, and smiled when the first year yelped, smacking her arm against a pitcher of pumpkin juice, sending it straight over her parchment.

Jon jumped down onto the bench beside her, dropping a kiss to her head. "Terrifying the first-years again?" He quite literally wolfed down a piece of toast, barely chewing as he leaned over her to grab hold of a bowl of porridge from a floating platter. He dumped what she believe was half a tin of sugar in it before shoving another piece of toast in his mouth.

"What are you doing, preparing for a famine?" she mumbled.

"Always," Arya said, sitting on the other side of him. She smirked. "He was off running this morning. I saw him."

"I don’t know what you saw," Jon said.

Dany fixed her look on Arya, lips hardly moving as she said the spell. She saw it clearly; Arya was thinking about Jon as a wolf, she was sure he was an Animagus. She blinked quickly and then glanced to Jon, sending the image his way. He whipped his head to her, glaring. She smirked, not really sorry. He had ordered her to stay out of his mind, that some things were better left unread, but she couldn't help it. There were times where she _really_ wanted to know what he was thinking, and her newfound talent and studies were finally bearing fruit. She had been practicing to the point of making herself nauseous and almost fainting over the last couple months.

Just like learning a Patronus when she didn't need to, she wanted to study Legilimency. It would be an extraordinarily useful skill for an Auror and as she had decided finally that was what she wanted to do, she thought she might as well get started now. Aegon the Conqueror’s son Maegor had been a vicious Dark Wizard, but he had been a highly skilled Legilimens. As had numerous members of her family, some of the books said that it was why they could communicate nonverbally with their dragons, because they could read their minds.

_Mind-reading_ was such a Muggle way of describing it. Dany had thought it far more complicated than that. It might have been peeking into the layers of thoughts, but it wasn't just that. You had to go through new and old memories, ignore distractions, and focus your mind as well. Everyone had different colors too, different auras to their minds, and she found some-- Joffrey Baratheon for one-- were so dark and evil she could not even stay there for long. Then there was Jon.

When he was sleeping, she would sometimes take a peek, to see what he was dreaming about. The first time she'd done it, she had been nervous—such an invasion of privacy— except she had found that he was dreaming of her. Or of running in his wolf form. It had caused her to fall asleep too, lulled by the joy of it all.

She pushed to her feet, leaving Jon to his sister, knocking his shoulder lightly. "I’m going to ah...see if Tormund got those kelpies for Care of Magical Creatures." A lie-- she was going to check Drogon. They had free period to study for N.E.W.T. exams before Transfiguration. She got up and stopped hard, surprised. "Lord Stark!"

Jon and Arya immediately looked up from their argument. "Dad!" Arya exclaimed, jumping up and running to him. Ned chuckled, hugging her quickly, his gray wizard robes not mussed at all even though Arya looked like she had been rolling around in a dustbin. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a meeting with Headmaster Aemon. I thought I would see my children before lessons began." He scanned the Hall. "Where is Robb?"

"Probably with Talisa, being gross," Arya said. At the same time Jon replied, "Studying."

Ned smirked, knowing. "I am sure I know who is telling the truth."

"Arya," Dany blurted. She shrugged behind Ned at Jon's annoyed glance. She squinted, staring into Ned's mind, knowing she shouldn't, but he had glanced away, changing the subject so fast. She wanted to _know._

They were really practicing nonverbal spells, had been since sixth year. Jon had mastered it before anyone else in Slytherin, but Missandei had been the first in all of their year to perfect the art of nonverbal spellcasting. She was the smartest, after all, got the most Outstandings of _anyone_ and as a result had been named Head Girl. Samwell Tarly was Head Boy, but Dany still didn’t understand why, he could hardly confront anyone, let alone try to hand out detentions and take away points.

Jon could close his eyes and be half-asleep and cast spells without even a word. It was downright annoying. She was still trying to do it with certain spells, and Legilimency through nonverbal means was for highly advanced witches and wizards. She focused hard, hoping he didn’t hear her, and breathed. “ _Legilimens._ ”

Only to be hit with a hard metal-like clang in her mind, as she bounced off a closed off mind. _What?_ She blinked, gazing at Ned Stark, hoping her surprise didn’t show. He turned his head, barely, to her, frowning almost imperceptibly. She busied herself with her bag, mumbled something about studying, and ran off. _Damnit! Ned Stark was an Occlumens!_

And for some reason he was using it, just for a simple visit to the Headmaster. She ran towards the library, intending to study up some more, when she froze, staring out the open Great Hall doorway, at a rather ominous sort of procession making its way to the entryway. “Ser Barristan,” she greeted, their Head of Security nodding towards her. She swallowed hard. “Um, what is Cersei Lannister doing here?” The wife of Robert Baratheon was squeezing Joffrey Baratheon as though she hadn’t seen him in years.

“She is with the Minister.” Barristan made a face, clearly not happy about having to take time out of his day to deal with the Ministry security. “Robert Baratheon is visiting with the Headmaster. I believe Lord Stark is with him.”

_That must be why._

Ned was using Occlumency to keep Robert Baratheon out of his mind. She swallowed hard; there were answers she and Jon had discovered about his family, about his father. Except there were still questions. Like why Rhaegar erased himself from the collective memory of everyone in the Wizarding World. She thanked Ser Barristan and went up to the library to study.

She fussed a bit in a corner of the library where she and Jon liked to hide but seemed Ygritte had decided to show up with her new boyfriend Jarl, in an effort to try to make Jon jealous. It wasn’t working and only served to annoy Dany, who wished she could plant fake memories in Ygritte’s mind, if only to just bother her. She made a face at the redhead, who scowled back from across the table. Dany opened up _Most Potente Potions_ for her essay, before slamming it shut, tapping her quill and wondering what was going on with the Minister’s visit.

Jon emerged from between two bookcases, setting his books down. He dragged a heavy book towards him, chuckling. “Melisandre wants me to discuss the effects on the human body of Animagi and Metamorphmagi.” He snickered. “I think I’m going to get a good mark on this one, don’t you think?”

She leaned closer to him, ducking her head towards his, whispering. “Ned is here with Robert Baratheon. He blocked me from his mind.”

“Well good, you know you’re going to read the wrong person and get in trouble.”

“I’m not that obvious.”

He smirked. “Yeah, sure.” He folded his arms on the book, leaning into her and pressing his nose on hers. “What am I think?” he murmured.

She lifted her wand, pointing it towards him, smiling. “ _Legilimens._ ” It took her a few tries—sometimes it was difficult if the subject was really focusing on hiding it from her—for the flood of images in his mind to transfer into hers, seeing…her cheeks flamed red. She dropped her wand. “Jon!”

“What?” he asked, innocent.

“Shh!” Ygritte snapped from over at her table. “Some of us are trying to study!”

Jon made a rude gesture towards her. He leaned back in towards her, planting a hard kiss on her lips. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Am I distracting you?” Ygritte chirped. She smirked. “You’re making a mistake with that one Snow.”

“Actually I think the only mistake I made was with you.”

Dany grabbed him by the back of his robes, yanking him away when Ygritte jumped onto the table to go after him, held back by a few of the other Hufflepuff girls she was with. She pushed his shoulder hard. “Arsehole. That was rude.”

He shrugged. “She deserved it; she’s so mean to you.”

“I can handle it.”

“Just like defending your honor,” he teased, kissing her again. She gave in, just enough, both of them falling into an alcove near the library entrance. They managed to tear themselves away from each other, to return to focusing on what they want to do. She wants to know why Robert is there. She wants answers. She wants to know _everything._

“Come on.”

They escape to where the entrance to Aemon’s office was, seeing the security detail, wizards waiting by the entrance, so Robert was in there. She took a deep breath and broke free of Jon, marching to them. “Hello!” she greeted. “I’m Daenerys Targaryen, I’m Headmaster Aemon’s niece. I need to speak with him.” She tried to get through, when they blocked her. She scowled. “I don’t know if you know who I am.”

“We heard,” one of them said. “And we don’t care.”

One of the guards jumped at the sound of glass breaking. Dany didn’t look; she knew what the sound was. He whipped his wand out. “What is that!?”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a wall of ice forming at the end of the corridor. She put on a shocked expression. “My gods! You need to go see what that is!” They took off, not thinking, and immediately began sliding down the hall, ice creeping with every single step. She smirked; Jon’s inventive ice spell was getting much better. She looked at the dragon statue outside of the entrance. “Red Queen,” she said, referring to the nickname for Meleys, one of the Targaryen dragons of old. All of Aemon’s passwords were dragon names.

The dragon jumped up and moved aside, allowing the staircase to form. She stepped onto it, ascending up to the office, and hovered outside the door, listening to the arguing. She pointed her wand, muttered the spell, and immediately felt gross, being in the mind of Robert Baratheon.

There was a lot of blurry images. She wasn’t sure what they were, she thought maybe memories of Hogwarts. Except…there was nothing there. It was so fuzzy. It was as if they had been tampered.

_Obliviated._

She glanced at her uncle and then to Ned Stark again. She pointed her wand, giving it another try. This time, Ned was not prepared. He was blocking any attempts at his mind, but there was a single crack, she spotted it, wondering…

And was immediately hit with an image of a fiery snake making its way around his arm and the arm of Lyanna, lying on a bed, exhausted, and pale. _Promise me._.

_I promise._

And there was another, standing beside Aemon, admitting he made a promise. Admitting he made a mistake. And then she fell out of the mind, Ned’s block going back into place. He glanced around, frowning. _He doesn’t know where it’s coming from_ , she thought. She bit her lip, glancing at Aemon.

And she tried. Just a quick peek.

Aemon was not blocking anyone, maybe he knew she was there. He was listening to Robert; whatever Robert was saying. Something about how he wanted more combat lessons, he wanted witches and wizards going into the world knowing how to fight, not think. She wondered if that was why he was thinking about…

_Rhaegar._

She could only see the blurry image of her brother, asking if something was possible. If he could “ _erase it all._ ” Then she could no longer see anything else. She stood up, something dawning on her. She knocked on the door and entered without waiting for permission. “Uncle!”

Aemon smiled warmly. “Daenerys.”

Robert stared at her. He was a large man, probably would have been handsome in his youth, she supposed. He blinked at her; kind of a glassy look. He looked at Aemon. “Student?”

“My niece,” Aemon said, gesturing to her. “Daenerys Targaryen.”

Dany kept her eyes on Robert; she felt Ned shift near her, clearly nervous. She offered her hand to Robert. “Minister, pleasure to meet you.”

“Daenerys is one of our top students, she wants to become an Auror one day.”

Robert barely acknowledged her. “Oh. That’s nice.” He frowned. “Targaryen, you say?”

“Yes,” she said, before Ned or Aemon could cut her off.

He nodded again. “Ah…old magic.” He looked at Aemon and blinked again. “You were saying Headmaster?”

_There it is._ She looked at her uncle, who was smiling, head tilted in her direction. She cleared her throat loudly. “Uncle I was here because I was walking by and saw the Minister was visiting. I confess, I took advantage and wanted to meet him. I apologize and will take my leave now.”

“Youthful curiosity, never hurt anyone…well, maybe maimed someone a time or two.” Aemon chuckled, waving his hand. “And also my brother Egg, did I ever tell you the story Minister?” He began to tell a story from over seventy years before, and she took the opportunity to sneak back out, smiling briefly at Ned, who barely gave her a look.

She exited the Headmaster’s office, about to descend the staircase, when she heard a very loud, very clear voice in her mind.

_Be very careful with your gifts Daenerys._

It was Aemon’s voice, warning her. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to look backwards, to acknowledge. She placed up blocks, controlling her mind, steeling it off from anyone else, even Ned Stark, who she felt move towards her. She returned to the corridor, finding the guards were still slipping around on the ice, and skirted it towards the opposite direction.

“Daenerys.”

She paused; the cool voice of Ned Stark froze her in her steps. She gripped her wand tight, turning slowly, a soft smile on her lips, as if nothing was amiss. “Yes?”

Ned glanced over his shoulder, quirking his lip. “I see my nephew has been working on that ice spell of his.”

“He calls it an Icebeam Hex.”

“Hmm.” The taller man gazed down his nose at her; she felt like he was scanning her this time, as opposed to the other way around, her mind blank, showing him absolutely nothing. To become a true Legilimens, you also needed to become an accomplished Occlumens, she thought. He squinted; his voice hushed. “Be careful Daenerys, you and Jon might think you need to know about the past, but it could only do more harm than good.”

She kept her words slow and chosen deliberately. “You mean like Jon’s father?” Ned paled. She took a deep breath, whispering. “I do not know what occurred or happened, but I know that…my brother….” She squinted, pushing her thoughts towards his, hoping he got the hint. She was purposefully offering them to him. It was the only way they would be able to communicate without being overheard.

They stared at each other a moment, until he understood; she felt the layers fall away, the initial blocks, and she nodded slightly, sending her thoughts directly to him, showing him the Room of Requirement, the tapestry with her family’s line and the blown out spot where Rhaegar’s name should have been. The photo in the Trophy Room, where Jon saw nothing but she plainly saw her brother. The way that Old Walder Frey skipped over an entire portion of Wizarding history.

And the burning dragons at the Qudditch match, when she and Jon had been fighting. She did what she could to prevent him from seeing the kissing that resulted in the other two, but she saw his face twitch when unfortunately one of the memories slipped loose. She turned pink, skating fast by it, hoping he understood her confusion. The photo of Rhaegar found in the locket and the photo of Lyanna in the watch.

The question she had, above all else, the one she’d even asked her uncle, after seeing his memories in the Pensieve. _”Can someone erase their entire memory from the world?”_

Ned slowly nodded. “Yes,” he murmured. He closed his eyes, pained, and she saw his hand tighten on his wand, knuckles whitening. He walked by her, towards a window overlooking the lake. He glanced sideways. “My best friend is Robert Baratheon. I am one of his closest advisers. He was supposed to marry my sister. She died. He survived.” He chose his next words quite carefully. “He does not ask about Jon because he…he does not need to ask. He does not flinch at your name because he has no reason.” He paused. “He hated all Targaryens. He hated one in particular.”

_And now he has no reason to hate him, because he does not even remember him. Because Rhaegar Targaryen no longer exists in the world._ Tears pricked her eyes. “He did it because he loved her,” she whispered.

“Aye.”

“And Jon…”

Ned’s grip tightened on his wand; she stopped. The memory from Aemon and the images she’d briefly gotten. _He made an Unbreakable Vow; he cannot tell me. He will die if he breaks it._ She simply nodded. There was no further reason to speak with him. She had her answers.

It took seven bloody years and a visit of Robert Baratheon to Hogwarts, but she had her answers. She bowed her head briefly. “Lord Stark. Thank you.” She pushed by him, hurrying towards one of the staircases.

“Daenerys,” he called.

She turned quickly, hand on one of the columns. “Yes?”

Ned frowned, disappointment clear. “You and Jon should not be together. It is not right.”

_It was not right, but it was what was happening._ “With all due respect, Lord Stark,” she said, somehow tapping into the fire and strength that came with being a dragon. Her silver eyebrows arched. “I do not need your permission to do anything and neither does Jon. We know what we are doing.”

“Do you?”

She sent him the image from the Wolfswood, making sure to keep Drogon out of it. Of the mark in the dirt, the Chocolate Frog card saying that Aegon Targaryen had marked his descendants, so they would know when each other were near. Jon knew his parentage and yet… _he didn’t care._

_And neither do I._

It obviously disappointed Ned, perhaps even disgusted him, but she didn’t care. She nodded briefly and disappeared down the stairs, running off to Tormund’s hut, where she found Jon inside. Tormund was off somewhere collecting creatures for his next Care of Magical Creatures class. Or else he was trying to find one of the visiting professors for their Defense Against the Dark Arts class who was one of the head Aurors, Ser Brienne.

She closed the door behind her, rushing to Jon, who grabbed hold of her around her waist, tugging her against his chest as she gripped the back of his neck. “I have answers, I know what he did.” She cried, suddenly overcome. Rhaegar was selfless. Rhaegar died to protect her and to protect his son. “He fell in love with your mother, he wasn’t supposed to, she was supposed to marry Robert Baratheon…”

They weren’t sure what exactly happened between Robert and Rhaegar, but somehow Rhaegar had decided to erase his memory from the world. So Robert would not go after his son or anyone bearing the Targaryen name, when she was sure that Robert probably would have killed them all. It was why Ned made an Unbreakable Vow, so he would protect his nephew at all costs.

Jon listened as she explained what she’d uncovered, using her newfound talents with Legilimency. He closed his eyes, squeezing her hand so tight she winced, whispering. “I do not know how he did it, I have never heard of such a thing, but he did. Rhaegar destroyed his memory from every living person…but I know him because I was not there yet. I was just a baby.”

“Everyone knows about your father,” Jon whispered. He gazed to her, almost unseeing, thinking in his own mind, scouring his own memories and knowledge. “About how Robert overthrew him for power of the Ministry…he died in a duel I think, I can’t remember, but…this was all about love. Not power and politics.”

“Rhaegar loved Lyanna and he decided to die for it,” she summarized.

They leaned back against the wall of Tormund’s hut, seated on the bed, hands entwined and minds too exhausted to think further on the topic. Jon closed his eyes, eventually leaning on her shoulder, his arms wrapping around her. She hugged him, dragging her fingers along his forearm. They might not ever get all the answers but at least they had enough.

They had each other.

And Dany supposed that was all that mattered anyway.

~/~/~/~

**7- Graduation Day**

"I can't believe we survived."

They sat in the Great Hall, the tables disappeared and in their place a series of chairs aligned facing a dais, which held the podium Headmaster Aemon used to make his usual announcements at start and end of term. There were a few chairs there as well, for the Heads of Houses and th either professors, each of whom stood up to hand out scrolls proclaiming the students new graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

They sat all in alphabetical order again, like they had when they initially streamed in, tiny little first years unsure of what was going to happen to them the next seven years. Jon nodded, shifting in his hot dress robes. They all had to wear the old-fashioned heavy black velvet robes, with heavy hoods that draped back over them and formed what felt like a damn collar around his neck. The hoods were the colors of their Houses. They also all had to wear old-fashioned pointed wizard and witch hats. He hated it, made him feel like some sort of Muggle creation they thought did not exist.

Although he had to admit Dany looked quite fetching in her black witch hat, which she had enchanted to have dragons racing around the brim. He leaned around Robb and Sam, over to Dany, poking her with his wand. She scowled at him, trying to swipe the wand away. "Hey, your brother here?"

"Yeah, I think he's going to have a coronary though." She turned in her seat, waving at a tall man who was seated with the Starks, his silver hair the only indication that he was a Targaryen. Many were looking at him like he was a zoo animal, curious about this Targaryen who did not have magical skills. Viserys glared at her, before Ned leaned over to speak with him, appearing instantly irritated.

Jon waved at Arya, who was seated with the rest of the Starks. She was annoyed, having to wear her Hogwarts uniform even though term was almost over. They would be leaving on the train back to London with the rest of the students in the morning, but the newly graduated ones were able to leave with their families that evening. Or wherever they wanted to go.

He realized he didn't have to go back to Winterfell if he didn't want to, just like Dany didn’t' have to leave with Viserys. They could go to Hogsmeade and Apparate wherever they wanted. He had gold in a vault in Gringotts that was what his mother had left him, her entire fortune as an heir to the Starks. Dany had all the Targaryen riches as well.

They just had to keep quiet. To ensure that Ned's Unbreakable Vow remained unbroken and that Robert Baratheon and all the others who might have wanted the Targaryen name dead did not suddenly remember. Rhaegar's massive Memory Charm had held this long, there was no reason it would change.

_His father. Rhaegar Targaryen._

He reached up to the locket that he kept hidden under the robes. It warmed at his thought. The tiny photo of his parents was all he had of them. Well, his compass and his watch. He reached into his pocket next, taking out the compass and watched the dial spin. The arrow pointed to his left and he smiled, following it, and beamed at Dany who was grinning at him. He didn't think the arrow would change. It always showed him what he wanted.

He pocketed it and checked his watch. "When are we starting?"

"No idea," Robb said, yawning. He ruffled his hair, before putting his hat back on. He shook his head again, pure disbelief on his face. "Cannot believe we're done here. I get to go home and start helping my father with Ministry work."

"You applied to the Ministry?" Sam asked. He had already applied and accepted a position as a research assistant in the Department for the Regulation and Care of Magical Creatures Office of Misinformation. He was quite excited, as it allowed for great opportunities to speak with the Muggles on matters of magic and Sam was fascinated by Muggles and learning all about them.

Robb rolled his eyes. "No, being a Stark and the heir to Winterfell means that I automatically have a position with the Wizengamot, but not until my father dies. So I just have to learn about the estate and all that goes with it." He sat up slightly in his seat, blowing a kiss to Talisa, who blew one back to him. He grinned. "But I'm going to spend the summer with Talisa. She's been accepted to training for a Healer at St. Baelor's."

In their last couple months it had become quite apparent that everyone had to find a job after they left. They were only seventeen, or eighteen in some instances, and while some students were just going off into the world to learn more about it, others were applying to advanced programs or schools of study. Including Missandei, who he knew was going to travel to Essos to attend a Braavosi school for languages and then she would likely end up working for International magical Cooperation at the Ministry.

He and Dany were going straight to Auror training, both were accepted. They didn't start until September. He wondered what they would do during the summer. He wanted to spend it just with her, none of his stupid cousins around. They could travel and hang out in London and...

His thoughts faded when Headmaster Aemon came up to the dais, holding his hands aloft. He listened, as Aemon spoke of the end of an era, of how they came through the door as untrained witches and wizards and were leaving as full-fledged members, in control of their magic and able to make an impact and help with the next generation. He invited them all to return to Hogwarts as they made their way and one day even their children might be trained there too.

Each one walked up to receive their scroll and a photographer bounced around snapping photos. Jon glanced sideways at Dany, smiling again. He remembered when they had been standing there; gods, he had been terrified. He didn't know what to expect, the _Bastard of Winterfell_ , with no awareness or understanding of his confusing dreams and feelings and wanting very much to disappear into the ground. His Hatstall had brought far too much attention to him, until Dany came along. He was grateful for it.

Now he guessed he knew why.

Not following Robb into Gryffindor, but Dany into Slytherin had been the best thing that had ever happened to him. Gave him the chance to become who he wanted to be, not who Ned Stark wanted. He wished he could speak with Ned still about his family, about what he knew of his mother and Rhaegar Targaryen, but he supposed Ned already knew that he knew. He peered over his shoulder, seeing Ned's soft smile in his direction.

Dany leaned over, whispering. "He's actually happy you're happy, you know. I don't even think he's worried about us."

He shot her a look, warning. She shrugged. Her _mind-reading_ was going to get her into trouble one day. Sometimes he couldn't believe it hadn't already. He applauded when Theon got up to get his scroll, shocked that Robb's best friend had even graduated. Dany cheered loudly for Missandei. He glanced along at the other number of people, surprised that it was almost time for him.

"Jon Snow!" Melisandre announced.

He stood and walked up, shaking hands and taking the diploma from Olenna, who leaned in, smirking proudly. "Still sometimes wonder how you of all people got into Slytherin, Jon Snow, but you have made me proud."

He pinked at the praise, especially from the Queen of Thorns. He broke away from the path he was meant to follow back to his seat, moving to Headmaster Aemon, his hand lightly touching the frail old man's, whispering. "Thank you, Headmaster. For everything."

Aemon smiled, his glassy eyes lifted, unfocused. He patted his hand, squeezing it, with a rather surprising grip. "You have killed the boy Jon Snow. Now let the man be born...let the dragon free."

_Let the dragon free._

He squeezed quickly and dropped off the dais, going back to his seat, in time to watch Robb get up and make his way, the Starks cheering. He even saw Catelyn almost in tears, no doubt proud that her _baby_ managed to get through. He sat up in his seat, applauding for Sam. He wished Sam's family was there, but unfortunately his vile father and mother had not made the trip, disappointed in his placement in Hufflepuff and his chosen career path. His girlfriend Gilly was there though, although she was still a sixth year.

_Now for Dany._

"Daenerys Targaryen!"

He lifted his wand, sending fireworks shooting up, along with Missandei, who bounced in place, screaming. He knew that most of the people there were looking, no doubt intrigued at this mysterious Targaryen, wondering if she was like how all the books characterized them. Dany laughed, tossing her silver braids over her shoulder as she ascended, practically a queen, shaking hands and accepting a kiss on the cheek from Ser Jorah, who no doubt would be most disappointed to see his favorite pupil depart. She even got a begrudging hug from Lord Tyrion.

And like him, she broke off and went to Aemon, sharing a few words. Then she dropped down and went back over to her seat.

They finished out with Ygritte as the last one. He really, really wanted to send her tripping, especially after she made a rude gesture at him, still pissed over their terrible, disastrous end. He ignored her; she still hadn't really grown up.

Aemon stood again and lifted his hands, calling out, his reedy voice strengthening with each word. "And now I dismiss you finally, as witches and wizards, go forth and make us proud." He clapped his hands, and everyone exclaimed, looking down as their colored hoods and sashes with their House colors transitioned into black with the seal of Hogwarts in the center, marking every one of them the same.

Melisandre snapped her fingers, her crimson lips in a smirk, and the torches on the side of the wall exploded, fire rocketing around the room in various shapes of lions, serpents, badgers, and falcons. Someone threw their hat up and then they all did. He grabbed his from the floor and immediately swung Dany into his arms, kissing her hard on the lips.

Dany yelped against him, surprised at the sudden display of affection, especially in front of his uncle. She giggled, pressing to him, and kissed back. They broke a moment later and he felt warm under his collar as Ned approached them, a slight wrinkle to his forehead. "Lord Stark," she greeted, her arm still around him. He glanced at her twinkling violet eyes, wondering if she was scanning through the layers of his mind. It seemed she was, as she took his hand into hers, squeezing hard, making no effort to hide.

Ned nodded, very briefly, to her. "Daenerys."

"We were going to tell you," he found himself saying, unsure what was giving him the strength. Maybe it was that he just didn't care anymore. Didn't care about the secrets and the mysteries. He almost challenged his uncle, no longer the scared little boy who had been afraid to eat before his cousin, lest his aunt have a fit that he was taking up too much of their time and resources. "Dany and I are together...and we really don't care what..." He paused. He was going to say _you_ but softened his tone. "What anyone thinks." He kept his gaze on his uncle and reached for the locket, holding it in his fingers, allowing Ned to see it. His uncle stiffened, mouth falling slightly at the sight of it. His voice dropped. "We love each other. No matter what."

"And nothing will change that," Dany said.

Ned lifted his chin, staring at them both. He eventually turned to Dany, his attention focused entirely on her, speaking quietly. "No, I suppose it will not. I have found that when...wolves and dragons find things they want, nothing will get in their way." He smiled, faint, and his gray eyes deepening, suddenly sad. "Least of all...conventions and others' opinions." He took a deep breath, holding it and then slowly released it, whispering. "I am glad you are happy Jon. Your mother would only ever want you happy."

He nodded. "I am."

"Good."

"Stop looking so dour, we're out of here!" Robb shouted, grabbing his father's elbow, yanking him towards the entrance hall. "Come on Dad, Arya got a camera, think she nicked it from someone." He winked at them, giving them some peace.

He nodded, grateful for his brother, and took Dany's hand, tugging her out of the Hall. They were waylaid by her brother, who was an absolute tosser, saying he was done with all the magic and was returning to London, she could call on him or not, but he wasn't going to deal with her any longer now that she was _official_. Dany said goodbye and dismissed him, a Ministry official responsible for escorting Muggles and other non-magical beings around, as magic tended to do funny things with them around.

They ran outside and Jon handed her his wand and his scroll. He had an idea. He had filed the paperwork the previous week. Melisandre had not seemed at all surprised, curious that he hadn't notified her when he _started the process_ but he made up some excuse. "Hey Arya!" he shouted.

His sister turned her head. The other Starks looked over, along with Theon and his sister, who was there for him. She frowned. "What?"

Dany laughed, the last sight he saw when he shifted into wolf form, barking and taking off, dancing around his siblings, Rickon and Bran laughing as Catelyn screamed that he was a _werewolf_ , meanwhile Theon was punching Robb for not telling him, and Ned looked pained. Arya screamed, chasing after him, bellowing out "I _knew_ it! I knew you were an Animagi!"

He shifted back into human form, laughing at the surprised expressions of most of their classmates and explained that it was something he'd been working on since he turned seventeen, although he suspected his uncle knew he was lying. Robb rolled his eyes. "Oh sure, we're just going to believe you became an Animagi this quickly?"

"Are you one too Dany?" Arya demanded.

Sansa rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. Dany can't be an Animagi. She would turn into a dragon and dragons aren't real."

Dany and he exchanged a knowing look; Drogon was waiting in his usual place in the forest, probably quite excited that he would be leaving and able to fly everywhere he wanted. He was often mistaken for a large, unnatural bird, but soon they would have to figure out what to do with him when he grew larger. Until then, he would follow Dany wherever they ended up going.

To her credit, Dany shrugged. “I could be an Animagi if I wanted, but I have…different interests.”

“Like what?” Sansa asked, hand on her hip. She was often challenging of Dany, likely because she liked to be the smartest person in the room and intended on beating Dany’s ten Outstanding O.W.L. results. Not to mention Dany’s N.E.W.T. results which were all Outstanding as well. Only Missandei scored better there, but everyone knew that was a given. His cousin tossed her auburn hair over her shoulder. “Care of Magical Creatures?”

“Legilimency,” Dany chirped. She smiled at Sansa’s surprised look, cocking her head and arching her brows. “Also I am quite skilled at nonverbal spells so…”

“Her Dragonfire Curse is pretty good too,” Jon said, chuckling when Sansa immediately looked chagrined, probably because even she hadn’t started trying to _create_ spells.

They took photos, until eventually even that grew boring. After hugging his cousins and departing for the dormitories to remove their heavy dress robes, they gathered up their things and finished packing. He stood in the dungeon room that had been his home for seven years, gazing at the emerald curtains and the serpent motifs everywhere. Theon had already left, his trunk remaining. They were assured that their trunks would get to them, wherever they happened to be. He had no doubt. Hogwarts had never let him down yet.

He went into the common room, Ghost at his side. “Well boy,” he sighed, turning in a circle, hands in his pockets. “Guess this is it.”

Dany appeared, wiping at her eyes. “It seems so strange to be leaving,” she whispered, going to him and leaning against him, looking over at the little corner they had created for themselves, where they would study and play games and generally create their mischief.

“Aye.”

They said their farewells, going back outside. Carriages took them to Hogsmeade and they turned and stared backwards as the castle grew small. He knew they would see their friends soon. They probably would be back at Hogwarts soon enough too.

The carriages dropped them off at the train station, some choosing to take it back into London. Except they were full witches and wizards now. That meant they could travel however they wanted. He knew many were returning to family, before they went off into the world, but he and Dany weren’t going to Winterfell. They would soon enough, but for now, they were planning on spending time in London. They’d go to Essos and they would _experience._

Ghost had a collar and leash, just for the travel, looped around his wrist. He stood on the platform with Dany, hands clasped. “Does Drogon know where you’re going?”

“Yes, I told him.” Via their strange mental connection, he knew. She shifted her bag on her shoulder. It was no doubt loaded with most of her trunk, she had used an Undetectable Expansion Charm on it. She offered him her hand and he took it. Their eyes met and he smiled. “Let’s go Jon,” she whispered.

“Together.”

Dany nodded, vowing. “Together. Always.”

“Always.”

They both closed their eyes and with a _pop_ , vanished.

**fin.**

**Author's Note:**

> So that happened, buh-bye.


End file.
